I 


BX  8495   .C25  W5  1859 
Wightman,  William  May,  1808- 
1882. 

Life  of  William  Capers,  D. 
D.,  one  of  the  bishops  of 


LIFE 


OF 


FEB  7  191P 


WILLIAM  'capers,  D.D., 


ONE    OF    THE    BISHOPS  OF 


THE  METHODIST  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH,  SOUTH; 


INCLUDING  AN 


/  BY 

WILLIAM  M.  WIGHTMAI^,  D.D., 

PRESIDENT  OF  WOFFORD  COLLEGE. 


SOUTHERN  METHODIST  PUBLISHING  HOUSE. 
1859. 


i 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1858,  by 
WILLIAM  M.  WIGnT3IAX, 
In  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Middle  District  of  Tennessee. 


STEEEOTYPF:!)  AN'D  PEIXTKD  by  a.  a.  STITT,  southern  METHODIST 
PUBLISHING  HOUSE,    NASHVILLE,  TENN. 


Contois. 


Pbeface   ix 

Autobiography   11 

CHAPTER  I. 

Value  of  autobiography — Mr.  Capers  appointed  Superintendent  of  a 
Mission  to  the  Creek  Indians — Stationed  at  Milledgeville,  Ga..  231 

CHAPTER  II. 

Stationed  in  Charleston — Editor  of  the  Wesleyan  Journal — Appointed 
Presiding  Elder — Defence  of  Bishop  Soule's  Sermon — Elected  Dele- 
gate to  the  British  Conference   248 

CHAPTER  III. 

Embarks  in  the  John  Jay — Voyage— Reception  in  England — Estimate 
of  the  leading  Wesleyan  preachers  —  Resolutions  of  the  British 
Conference — Visits  Dr.  Adam  Clarke  at  Haydon  Hall — Return 
voyage   264 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Invitation  to  go  to  Baltimore — Missions  to  the  blacks  established — 
Results  of  these  Missions   28S 

CHAPTER  V. 

Elected  to  a  Professorship  in  Franklin  College,  Ga. — His  own  humble 
appreciation  of  his  scholastic  abilities — Severe  illness — Castile  Sel- 
by — Stationed  in  Columbia — Correspondence  with  Dr.  Cooper,.  303 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Miss  Jane  A.  Faust — Miss  Maxwell — An  awakening  sermon — Rhymes 
— Dr.  Capers  removes  to  Charleston — General  Conference  of  1882 
— Is  offered  the  Presidency  of  LaGrange  College   317 


iv 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Hospitality — Rev.  Joliu  Hutchinson — The  little  mail-carrier  and 

the   overcoat  —  Outlay  of   benevolence  speedily  returned,  and 

doubled   332 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Troubles  in  the  Church  in  Charleston — Transferred  to  the  Georgia 
Conference,  and  stationed  at  Savannah — Lewis  Myers — Delivers  a 
eulogy  on  Lafayette   339 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Removal  to  Columbia — Accepts  the  Professorship  of  Moral  and  Intel- 
lectual Philosophy  in  the  South  Carolina  College — Reasons  for  an 
early  resignation — Denominational  education   352 


CHAPTER  X. 

Lays  the  corner-stone  of  the  Cokesbury  School — George  Holloway — . 
Visits  Georgia — Stationed  in  Charleston — Congregational  singing — 
Appointed  Editor  of  the  Southern  Christian  Advocate — Great  fire 
in  Charleston — Collections  for  rebuilding  the  churches — Centenary 
of  Methodism   362 


CHAPTER  XI. 

General  Conference  of  1840 — Conversion  of  his  son  William  —  Ap- 
pointed Missionary  Secretary  for  the  South — Preaches  the  funeral 
sermon  of  Mrs.  Andrew   371 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Removes  from  Oxford  to  Charleston — Makes  the  tour  of  the  South- 
western Conferences — Visits  his  aunt  in  Kentucky — Incidents  of 
travel — Maum  Rachel     383 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


General  Conference  at  New  York — Debate  on  Finley's  resolution — 
Incipient  measures  for  a  division  of  the  Church   398 


CONTENTS. 


V 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Elected  and  ordained  Bishop — First  tour  of  Episcopal  visitations — 
Travels  through  the  border  territory  of  the  Virginia  Confer- 
ence  413 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Second  tour  of  visitations — The  far  West — Travels  through  the 
Indian  Territory,  Arkansas,  and  Texas  ,   426 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Dr.  Bascom  visits  South  Carolina — His  mind  and  manners — Meeting 
of  the  Bishops  and  Commissioners  of  the  Church  suit  called  by 
Bishop  Soule — Bishop  Capers's  third  and  fourth  tours  of  visita- 
tions ,   439 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

General  Conference  at  St.  Louis — Fifth  tour  of  visitations — Writes 
his  Autobiography — Illness  at  Augusta — Sixth  tour — Correspond- 
ence  451 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

The  Methodist  itinerant  system — Its  suitableness  to  the  expanding 
population  of  the  country  —  Statistics  —  Seventh  tour  of  visita- 
tions .....469 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Eighth  tour  of  visitations — Failing  health — General  Conference  at 
Columbus,  Ga. — Last  tour — Illness  and  death   482 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Personnel  of  Bishop  Capers — Intellectual  character — Conversational 
powers — Religious  experience — Style  of  preaching — Theology  of 
the  John  Wesley  school — Administrative  capacity — Family  feelings 
— Belief  in  a  special  Providence — Disinterestedness — Results  of 
his  ministry  ,   492 


I^xtktt. 


The  writer  of  the  following  memoir  deems  it 
proper  to  state  that  shortly  after  the  death  of  his 
honored  and  lamented  friend,  the  Rev.  Bishop 
Capers,  an  application  was  made  to  him  by  the 
family  of  the  deceased  to  undertake  the  prepara- 
tion of  a  biography.  This  application,  although  it 
furnished  a  touching  proof  of  personal  attachment 
and  regard,  he  was  at  the  time  constrained  to  de- 
cline, under  the  conviction  that  the  pressure  of 
engagements  in  a  new  and  important  field  of  labor 
would  not  allow  him  the  time  and  leisure  demanded 
by  Such  an  undertaking.  The  lapse  of  a  couple  of 
years  having  supplied  no  biographer,  he  yielded  to 
a  renewed  application,  and  consented  to  make  the 
attempt.  He  was  encouraged  by  the  consideration 
that  his  venerable  friend  had  left  a  minute  account 
of  the  early  years  of  his  active  and  varied  life,  bring- 
ing the  narrative  nearly  to  the  point  of  time  at 
which  the  writer  was  favored  to  form  a  personal 
1*  (vii) 


viii 


PREFACE. 


acquaintance  with  him,  to  enjoy  his  friendship, 
and  to  possess  many  opportunities,  in  the  in- 
timacy of  daily  intercourse,  to  study  the  develop- 
ments of  his  mind  and  character.  His  aim  has 
been  to  draw  the  portrait  of  his  friend  just  as  the 
vivid  recollections  of  thirty  years  presented  him  to 
the  mental  vision ;  aiming  at  simple  exactness  and 
fidelity  to  truth  in  the  picture.  The  lessons  taught 
by  the  life  of  this  eminent,  useful,  and  beloved 
minister  of  Christ  are  of  great  value  to  the  Church, 
and  should  not  be  lost  or  forgotten.  May  this 
volume,  which  presents  the  memorabilia  of  that  life, 
be  the  means  of  perpetuating  in  the  world  not  only 
the  impression  of  its  excellences,  but  the  living 
spirit  of  grace  in  Christ  Jesus,  which  was  the  source 
of  all  its  sanctity  and  usefulness. 

WoFFORD  College,  S.  C, 


LIFE  OF  WILLIAM  CAPERS,  D.D. 


12 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


half  century,  this  grain  has  been  produced  for 
market. 

Our  name,  Capers,  I  suppose  to  be  derived  from 
France,  and  the  first  of  the  name  in  South  Caro- 
lina were  Huguenots.  Of  this,  however,  I  am  not 
certain,  nor  is  it  of  any  consequence.  I  remember 
to  have  heard  no  more  from  my  father  about  it  than 
that  he  had  never  seen  the  name  in  any  English 
catalogue  of  names.  Those  of  the  name  in  Beau- 
fort District,  South  Carolina,  who  are  descended 
from  the  same  original  stock  with  us,  say  that  the 
name  is  French,  and  that  our  ancestor  was  of  the 
Huguenots ;  and  I  dare  say  they  are  right. 

My  father's  name  was  William ;  and  that  of  his 
father  and  grandfather,  Richard.  Of  my  father's 
father,  I  know  little  more  than  that  he  died  in 
middle  life,  leaving  two  sons,  George  Sinclair  and 
"William,  and  no  daughter.  After  his  death,  his 
widow,  my  grandmother,  having  contracted  an  un- 
happy marriage,  my  father's  uncle.  Major  Gabriel 
Capers,  of  Christ  Church  Parish,  became  his  foster- 
father,  and  did  nobly  for  him.  He  had  five  (or 
more)  daughters,  but  no  son,  and  my  father  became 
his  son  in  all  possible  respects.  My  great-grand- 
father survived  his  son  many  years  :  a  large  healthy 
fat  man  of  peculiar  manners ;  dressing  in  osnaburgs 
and  plains,  (a  kind  of  coarse  woollen,)  at  home, 
and  in  broadcloth  and  silks,  stiffened  with  excess 
of  gold  lace  and  a  powdered  wig,  when  he  went 
abroad.  A  different  kind  of  man  was  my  father, 
whose  name  I  cannot  mention  without  emotion, 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


13 


after  thirty-eight  years  since  I  saw  him  buried. 
I  have  studied  his  character  with  intense  interest, 
and  honor  his  memory  in  every' feature  ,  of  it  with 
my  whole  souL  A  chivalrous  soldier  of  the  Kevo- 
lution  was  he,  whose  ardent  patriotism  cooled  not 
to  the  last  of  life ;  and  yet,  after  a  few  years  in  the 
Legislature  following  the  establishment  of  peace, 
he  held  no  civil  office  whatever,  and  was  seldom 
seen  on  public  occasions,  except  in  his  office  as 
Major  of  Brigade,  to  muster  the  troops.  He  was  a 
military  man — ^the  war  of  the  Revolution  had  made 
him  so — and  to  muster  a  brigade  seemed  his  high- 
est recreation.  But  no  one  I  ever  knew  was  more 
a  man  of  peace  than  my  father  was.  Social  and 
unselfish,  generous,  kind,  and  gentle,  he  loved  not 
war.  I  dare  say  his  nature  w^as  impulsive,  but  it 
was  the  opposite  of  passionate.  Benevolence  sup- 
plied his  strongest  incentives,  and  the  serving  of 
others  seemed  to  be  his  favorite  mode  of  serving 
himself.  I  never  knew  him  to  be  involved  in  a  per- 
sonal difficulty  but  once ;  and  then  it  was  on  ac- 
count of  a  wrong  done  by  an  unreasonable  neigh- 
bor to  one  of  his  negroes.  His  education  had  been 
interrupted  by  the  Revolutionary  war,  and  was 
therefore  imperfect ;  but  he  had  a  clear  and  strong 
understanding,  was  fond  of  ISTatural  Philosophy 
and  Mechanics,  wrote  with  ease  and  perspicuity, 
and  in  conversation  was  eminently  engaging.  He 
was  born  October  13,  1758;  just  at  the  right 
time,  he  was  fond  to  say,  that  he  might  have  a  full 
share  in  the  war  of  his  country's  independence. 


14  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

And  yet,  with  the  Butlers,  of  South  Carolina,  (sons 
of  a  worthy  sire  who  did  his  country  good  service,) 
I  have  to  complain  that  my  father's  name  does  not 
appear  in  any  history  of  the  American  Eevolution. 
There  is,  indeed,  a  small  volume,  by  the  late  Chan- 
cellor James,  in  which  his  name  is  mentioned,  and 
we  are  told  of  his  giving  several  thousand  dollars"" 
(I  think  it  was)  for  a  blanket,  and  several  hundred 
for  a  penknife;  and  some  passing  compliment  is 
paid  to  his  courage  and  devotion  to  the  country ; 
and  besides  this  I  have  seen  nothing  more.  And 
yet  I  am  bound  to  claim  for  him  that  he  fought  with 
the  bravest  and  best,  first  as  a  lieutenant  in  the 
second  regiment,  when  General  Moultrie  was 
Colonel,  Marion  Lieutenant-Colonel,  and  Horry  a 
Captain ;  and  afterwards,  till  the  close  of  the  war,- 
as  one  of  General  Marion's  captains,  and  his  inti- 
mate friend. 

He  was  one  of  the  defenders  of  Charleston  in 
the  battle  of  Fort  Sullivan,  (Fort  Moultrie;)  was  in 
the  battle  of  Eutaw ;  was  at  the  siege  of  Savannah, 
where  Pulaski  fell,  and  not  far  from  him  at  that  fatal 
moment ;  and  was  at  the  battle  of  Rugely's  Mills, 
which  happened  after  his  escape  from  imprison- 
ment in  Charleston,  and  before  he  had  rejoined 
Marion.  Indeed,  he  was  there  in  search  of  Marion, 
whom  he  expected  to  find  with  General  Gates,  but 
found  not,  as  he  had  gone  on  an  expedition  to  Fort 


*  Such  was  the  depreciation  of  what  was  called  "Continental 
money." 


AUTOUIOGRAPIIY. 


15 


Motte.  At  Stono,  where  tlio  lamented  Laurens 
fell,  he  was  present  and  fought  like  himself ;  at  the 
siege  of  Charleston  he  was  one  of  its  defenders, 
and  one  of  those  who  accompanied  Major  Huger 
on  the  service,  which  on  their  return  proved  fatal 
to  that  gallant  officer,  by  a  false  alarm,  through  the 
inadvertence  of  a  sentinel,  whereby  many  lost  their 
lives  by  the  fire  of  their  own  countrymen  from 
their  own  lines  of  defence;  besides  numerous 
skirmishes  which  have  never  found  a  record  in  the 
books,  though  they  contributed  no  mean  quota  to 
the  defence  of  the  country. 

The  silence  of  the  books  to  the  contrary  notwith- 
standing, I  might  adduce  something  like  proof  of 
Marion's  friendship  for  him,  from  a  conversation- 
with  Mrs.  Mai^ion  herself,  the  General's  widow,  in 
the  winter  of  1806-7,  when  in  obedience  to  my 
father's  commands  I  called  at  her  house,  on  my 
Way  to  Charleston,  to  make  his  respects  and  inquire 
after  her  health.  I  might  tell  how  the  announce- 
ment of  my  name  to  the  servant  in  waiting  brought 
her  venerable  person  to  the  door ;  how  eagerly  she 
asked  if  I  was  the  son  of  her  valued  friend ;  how 
she  seized  my  hand  in  both  of  hers  with  a  hearty 
shake,  and  "  God  bless  your  father !"  and  how  late 
it  was  that  night  before  I  was  dismissed  to  bed 
from  tales  of  my  father's  chivalry  and  noble  heart. 
And  many  a  time  in  the  course  of  my  earlier  life 
was  I  honored  on  my  father's  account ;  and  never 
have  I  met  with  officer  or  soldier  of  Marion's  com- 
mand who  was  not  my  friend  for  my  father's  sake. 


16  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


But  with  respect  to  his  connection  with  the 
second  regiment,  early  in  the  war.  If  I  mistake 
not,  there  were  two  regiments  (possibly  more) 
raised  by  the  State  of  South  Carolina  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  war,  for  the  general  cause  of  the 
Revolution,  and  not  for  service  within  the  State 
only ;  and  for  this  reason  they  were  called  Continen- 
tal regiments.  This  one  of  them,  as  I  have  just 
said,  was  commanded  at  first  by  Moultrie,  with 
Marion  and  Horry  for  Lieutenant- Colonel  and 
Major.  And  it  was  while  these  officers  com- 
manded, that  my  father,  though  not  of  age,  held  a 
commission  in  it.  In  proof  of  this,  besides  having 
heard  it  affirmed  repeatedly  by  both  my  father  and 
uncle,  I  happen  to  have  in  my  possession  a  note 
from  General  Horry  to  my  father  in  the  year  1802, 
which  I  deem  conclusive.  The  occasion  of  the  note 
seems  to  have  been  some  difference  of  opinion  on 
a  point  of  tactics  between  my  father,  then  Brigade 
Major,  and  his  General  of  Brigade,  Conway,  which 
had  been  referred  to  General  Horry;  who,  after 
giving  his  opinion,  concludes  the  note  with  these 
express  words :  "i/"  my  memory  do  not  fail  me,  I  think 
such  ivas  the  usage,  or  custom,  in  the  second  regiment,  to 
which  we  both  belonged  in  June  of  our  Continental  war.'' 
Here,  then,  is  explicit  testimony  from  the  best  pos- 
sible authority,  as  to  the  fact  that  he  belonged  to 
the  second  regiment;  in  what  capacity  is  not 
stated,  but  it  must  have  been  as  an  officer,  for  it 
would  have  been  ridiculous  in  the  General  to  make 
such  an  allusion  with  respect  to  a  private,  and  we 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


17 


claim  for  him  no  higher  rank  in  that  regiment  than 
that  of  Lieutenant.  But  the  General's  note  serves 
me  for  another  point.  It  appears  that  he  and  my 
father  both  belonged  to  the  second  regiment,  "  in 
June  of  our  Continental  war.''  Wliat  June  must  that 
have  been?  The  phraseology  is  peculiar,  ai:^d  can 
make  sense  only  on  the  supposition  that  there  was 
one  June  unmistakably  distinguished  from  the 
rest,  for  there  v^cre  several  Junes  during  "  our  Con- 
tinental v^ar."  It  could  have  been  no  other  than 
June,  1776,  distinguished  above  all  others  of  the 
Hevolution,  especially  to  officers  of  the  second 
regiment,  by  the  battle  of  Fort  Moultrie.  There 
was  no  June  for  the  second  regiment  before  that, 
for  it  had  not  been  organized  and  in  service,  and 
that  was  its  first  great  achievement.  I^or  could 
there  have  been  any  June  after  it  of  which  General 
Horry  might  say  that  he  and  my  father  did  then 
belong  to  the  second  regiment ;  for  shortly  after  the 
battle  of  Fort  Moultrie,  Marion  becoming  a  parti- 
san General,  both  Horry  and  my  father  left  that 
regiment  and  joined  him — one  as  colonel  and  the 
other  as  captain. 

I  have  been  thus  particular  because  of  that  mor- 
tifying silence  of  the  books;  and  because  I  have 
ev6n  seen  a  printed  list  purporting  to  give  the 
names  of  all  the  persons  who  were  engaged  in  the 
T3attle  of  Fort  Moultrie,  from  which  my  father's 
name  was  omitted.  This  surprises  me  more  than 
any  thing  else,  for  as  to  the  period  of  his  service  as 
one  of  Marion's  captains,  the  peculiar  mode  of  war- 


18 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


fare  adopted  by  the  General  made  it  extremely  dif- 
ficult to  gather  information  of  numerous  important 
actions,  whilst  his  army  was  so  often  to  be  found 
in  detachments  only,  here  and  there,  from  the 
Combahee  to  the  Pee-Dee  river.  Indeed,  I  believe 
that  after  the  fall  of  Charleston  there  was  a  con- 
siderable period  of  time  in  which  it  was  seldom 
embodied  in  any  great  force.  And  yet  there  was 
always  a  galling  impracticable  foe,  hard  to  be 
found,  and  still  harder  to  be  got  rid  of,  by  British 
or  Tory.  It  was  some  one  of  Marion's  captains, 
trained  and  qualified  by  that  great  commander  to 
play  the  General  on  a  smaller  scale.  Much  of  such 
service  fell  to  my  father's  share,  and  many  a  thrill- 
ing incident  of  his  scouting-parties  have  I  heard 
related  by  him,  which  I  would  like  to  give,  but 
that,  at  this  distance  of  time,  they  are  not  distinct 
enough  in  detail  to  my  recollection  to  be  narrated 
with  accuracy.  They  appear  indistinctly,  or,,  rather, 
confusedly,  so  that  I  cannot  be  sure  that  I  have  all 
the  parts  of  any  event  in  order,  or  that  parts  of  one 
do  not  belong  to  another.  But  I  can  state  with 
certainty  the  facts  respecting  his  being  once  taken 
prisoner  by  the  Tories ;  and  of  his  escape  from  the 
prison  in  Charleston  not  many  weeks  afterwards. 
These  are  not  the  incidents  I  would  choose  to 
select,  if  my  memory  served  me  as  well  for  the 
rest ;  nevertheless,  you  may  think  them  worth  pre- 
serving ;  or,  if  not,  blot  them  out. 

My  uncle  and  father  were  on  furlough  for  a 
short  time,  and  had  reached  my  uncle's  residence, 


A  U  T  0  B  I  0  Gi  11  A  P  H  Y. 


19 


while  tlic  Tories  were  in  force  in  the  neighbor^ 
hood.  My  uncle's  wife  was  at  the  point  of  death, 
and  he  would  not  leave  her  for  the  night,  notwith- 
standing the  imminent  danger  of  remaining  in  the 
house  with  the  Tories  so  near  him.  My  father 
would  not  leave  his  brother  alone  in  so  much" 
danger. ,  They  barricaded  the  house  as  well  as 
they  could,  and  awaited  the  issue.  As  they  had 
feared,  the  Tories  were  upon  them  before  it  was 
light  —  a  full  company  surrounding  the  house. 
Flight  was  impossible ;  the}^  must  be  taken ;  and 
they  would  make  terms  ;  but  how  ?  They  affected 
to  be  a  company  themselves,  muttering  a  mimicry 
of  many  voices,  moving  rapidly  about,  and  by 
every  artifice  in  their  power  seeming  to  be  a  house- 
full,  and  not  two  persons  only.  The  stratagem  suc- 
ceeded,, and  the  craven  foe  formally  demanded  a 
surrender.  They  were  not  quick  to  answer  the 
demand,  but  kept  up  their  bustling  with  all  their 
might.  The  demand  to  surrender  was  repeated; 
and  in  answer  to  it  they  inquired  how  many  of  the 
assailants  there  were.  A  parley  ensued,  and  they 
finally  surrendered  on  condition  that,  on  sacred 
honor,  the  men  should  be  treated  as  prisoners  of 
war,  and  the  house  should  not  be  molested.  This 
being  done  with  due  formality,  they  marched  out, 
two  men  of  them,  to  the  extreme  mortification  of 
the  valiant  Tory  and  his  command.  They  were 
taken  to  Charleston,  delivered  to  the  Commandant, 
Colonel  Balfour,  and  put  in  prison.  Their  apart- 
ment was  in  the  third  story  of  the  jail,  with  some 


20 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


eight  or  ten  other  prisoners.  It  happened  that 
among  the  gentlemen  of  the  city  and  surrounding 
country,  who  had  taken  the  protection  offered  by 
the  British  after  the  fall  of  Charleston,  (and  of 
which  they  afterwards  had  so  much  cause  to  com- 
plain,) there  was  a  Mr.  Fogartie,  an  acquaintance 
of  my  father  and  uncle,  and  of  others  of  the  pri- 
soners, who  visited  them  almost  daily,  and  procured 
them  many  comforts.  And  after  same  weeks  of 
their  imprisonment  had  passed,  this  gentleman,  who 
was  ever  kindly  interested  for  them,  brought  the 
appalling  tidings  of  its  having  been  determined  to 
convey  them  away  from  the  city  to  the  West 
Indies.  He  had  overheard  an  order  to  the  effect 
that  a  vessel  should  be  got  ready  for  this  purpose 
forthwith,  and  should  sail  by  the  next  fair  wind. 
i^"othing  could  have  been  more  abhorrent  to  them 
than  this  information.  Their  very  souls  were  sick 
of  the  accounts  they  had  heard  of  the  yjrison-ships 
in  that  quarter  to  which  they  were  to  be  sent — 
their  crowded  condition,  want  of  food,  excessive 
heat,  stench,  and  vermin,  worse  than  death.  What 
possible  attempt  might  enable  if  but  half  of  them 
to  escape  at  the  sacrifice  of  the  rest?  And  it  was 
presently  concluded  that  Mr.  Fogartie  should  pro- 
cure a  boat  and  hands  to  be  in  readiness  at  the 
market  wharf  that  evening,  and,  if  possible,  arms 
and  ammunition  for  their  use ;  and  that  they^vould 
seize  the  moment  when  the  turnkey  came  at  dusk 
to  see  that  all  was  well,  to  rilsh  forth  together,  and, 
seizing  the  arms  of  the  sentry  at  their  door,  pre- 


AWTOBIOGRAPHY. 


21 


cipitate  themselves  on  the  next  and  the  next  along 
the  stairs,  killing  or  being  killed,  till  they  had 
made"  their  way  to  the  street,  and  thence  by  flight 
to  the  boat.  Could  half  of  them  hope  to  survive 
so  desperate  an  attempt?  Perhaps  not,  but  death 
on  the  ^pot,  rather  than  a  West  India  prison-ship, 
was  their  unanimous. voice. 

This  being  their  .determination,  the  faithful 
Fogartie  left  them,  to  arrange  for  his  part  in  the 
plot — the  procurement  of  arms  and  a  boat  at  the 
water-side.  There  were  not  many  hours  for  reflec- 
tion before  the  fearful  point  of  time  when  liberation 
or  the  bayonet  had  been  fixed  on ;  and  it  is  not 
surprising  that  with  the  chaijces  so  terribly  against 
them,  one  and  another,  as  the  evening  came  on, 
showed  symptoms  of  a  love  of  life.  The  first  for 
the  plot  were  the  first  to  abandon  it.  For  several 
hours  the  majority  stood  firm;  but  the  minority 
could  not  be  reclaimed,  but  finally  overcame  the 
majority,  who  concluded  that  the  chances  for  escape 
must  be  diminished  by  as  much  as  their  number 
was  reduced,  and  the  plot  had  better  be  abandoned. 
Kot  so  with  my  father,  whose .  resolution  had  been 
taken  too  firmly  to  be  reconsidered.  His  last  hope 
was  in  his  brother ;  who,  though  he  would  gladly 
have  been  one  with  the  rest  in  the  plot,  deemed  it 
mad  for  two  only  to  attempt  to  escape  by  such 
means,  and  strove  earnestly  to  dissuade  him  from 
his  avowed  purpose  of  going  by  himself  alone  if 
no  one  would  go  with  him.  The  remonstrances  of 
the  rest  he  answered  indifferently,  or  with  a  gibe, 


22 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  C*\.PERS. 


but  his  brotlier's  importunities  cost  him  some 
trouble;  till  almost  at  the  point  of  the  time  he 
turned  sharply  on  him,  and  said,  "  Brother,  I  never 
thought  myself  a  braver  man  than  you.  N'ow  I 
know  it.  Make  me  not  a  coward."  But  the  time 
was  come.  The  steps  of  the  turnkey  were  heard  at 
the  door.  It  was  dusk,  and  was  growing  dark  on 
the  stairs.  If  the  turnkey  could  be  deceived,  might 
not  the  desperate  man  escape  ?  They  had  in  the 
room  a  great  bowl  out  of  which  they  drank  their 
punch ;  and  there  wa§  a  little  punch  at  the  bottom 
of  the  bowl.  This  my  uncle  took,  and  placing 
himself  next  to  the  door,  was  ready,  the  moment 
it  should  be  opened,  to  offer  it  to  the  willing  turn- 
key. It  was  done.  The  great  bowl  hid  every 
thing  from  him  except  the  punch  in  the  bottom  of 
it,  and  my  father  instantly  was  gone.  I  learned 
from  my  uncle  that  it  was  not  difficult  to  engage 
the  attention  of  the  turnkey,  who  loved  punch 
dearly,  long  enough  to  afford  my  father  ample  time 
for  his  escape.  But  that  escape.  Whether  in  the 
dusk  the  sentry  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  took  him 
for  a  visitor,  or  for  the  turnkey  himself,  my  father 
knew  not ;  but  they  had  no  dream  of  his  being  a 
prisoner  making  his  escape,  and  so  suffered  him  to 
pass  without  molestation.  Just  passed  them,  and 
having  begun  to  descend  the  stairs,  his  foot  slipped, 
and  he  tumbled  down  the  whole  flight  of  steps  to 
the  platform  at  their  turning,  where  the  next 
sentry  was  posted.  A  laugh  and  sneer  from  the 
sentinel,  who  probably  took  him  to  be  drunk,  was- 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


23 


all  that  came  of  it.  This  furnished  a  hint  which 
he  improved ;  and  after  the  same  seemingly  drunken 
manner  he  descended  to  the  lower  floor,  and  made 
his  way  out  of  the  house.  His  friend  was  waiting 
at  the  appointed  place,  but  had  failed  of  procuring 
a  boat,  on  account  of  extreme  bad  weather.  N'ot  a 
moment  could  be  lost ;  but  taking  a  pistol  and  a 
hasty  adieu,  he  was  in  a  trice  at  the  Fish-Market 
landing.  There,  luckily,  he  found  a  negro  fisher- 
man bailing  a  boat ;  and  leaping  into  it  and  pre- 
senting his  pistol,  he  ordered  him  to  his  paddle  and 
off  for  Haddrell's  Point.  The  affrighted  fisherman 
promptly  obeyed,  only  exclaiming  that  they  must 
be  lost :  the  boat  could  not  possibly  live  in  such  a 
storm.  He  paddled  stoutly — as  they  well  know 
how  to  do — and  my  father  found  it  necessary  to  be- 
take himself,  for  his  part,  to  bailing  the  boat  of  the 
water  which  dashed  in  over  her  bows.  But  there 
was  another  danger  impending  which  he  dreaded 
even  more  than  the  agitated  waters.  The  British 
galleys  were  lying  in  the  stream,  and  it  was  impos- 
sible to  escape  their  watchfulness.  They  must  see 
him,  would  hail  him,  and  what  should  he  do? 
The  best  expedient  he  could  think  of,  and  pro- 
bably the  only  one  which  could  have  availed  him, 
was  suggested  by  the  lucky  mistake  of  the  sentry 
on  the  staircase,  taking  him  to  be  drunk;  and  so 
he  summoned  his  utmost  powers  to  act  the  part  of 
>  a  drunken  sailor.  Long  before  the  expected  hail 
of  "What  boat's  that?"  he  began  singing  and 
huzzaing  lustily,  now  a  stanza  of  some  vulgar 


24 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPEKS. 


song,  then  "God  save  great  George  our  king;"  ming- 
ling it  to  suit,  and  interlarding  it  with,  all  sorts  of 
drunken  rhapsody.  He  was  hailed,  and  returned 
it  by  giving  himself  some  common  name,  claiming 
to  belong  to  one  of  the  galleys,  and  stoutly  pro- 
testing he  was  too  drunk  and  the  water  too  rough ; 
huzzaing  for  the  king,  for  the  commandant,  and 
almost  any  British  officer  whose  name  he  knew; 
professing  to  be  as  brave  and  true  as  any  of  them, 
but  that  he  had  got  drunk  among  the  "gals"  on 
shore,  and  would  not  come  to.  Of  course,  then, 
he  had  to  pass.  He  was  not  worth  shooting  at, 
and  the  next  day  would  bring  him  to  condign 
punishment.  And  now  the  jail,  the  storm,  the 
galleys,  all  were  passed  in  safety ;  and  landing  at 
Haddrell's  Point,  and  giving  a  guinea  to  the  negro 
whose  boat  and  paddle  had  been  so  serviceable  to 
him,  he  was  once  more  one  of  Marion's  men. 

But  my  honored  father  was  a  Christian.  It  was 
on  the  first  introduction  of  the  Methodist  ministry 
into  South  Carolina  that,  under  the  preaching  of 
Henry  Willis,  of  blessed  memory,  in  the  year  1786, 
he  was  awakened  and  converted,  and  became  a 
soldier  of  the  Prince  of  Peace'.  His  name,  and  that 
of  my  maternal  grandfather,  John  Singe! tary,  may 
be  seen  in  the  original  conveyances  for  the  first 
two  Methodist  churches  built  in  Charleston,  (Cum- 
berland Street  and  Trinity,)  of  which  they  were 
trustees.  '  After  his  removal  to  Georgetown,  in 
1794,  he  became  a  strong  pillar  of  the  infant  church 
in  that  place,  serving  as  trustee,  steward,  and 


AUTOBIOailAPHY. 


25 


leader.  A  later  removal  to  Waccamaw  Neck  proved 
unfavorable  to  his  spirituality,  and  it  was  not  till 
1808,  in  Sumter  District,  that  he  recovered  all  that 
he  had  lost  of  the  life  of  faith.  Thenceforward 
till  his  final  removal  to  the  life  above,  December 
12,  1812,  he  was  a  pattern  of  piety,  an  example  of 
pure  and  undefiled  religion,  such  as  for  consist- 
ency, simplicity,  and  power  I  have  never  known 
excelled.  His  death  was  surpassingly  triumphant. 
I  witnessed  it,  and  was  with  him  day  and  night  for 
several  months  whilst  he  was  passing  down  into 
the  valley  of  Jordan.  All  was  peace,  and  power, 
and  exultant  hope.  There  was  no  moment  of  dark- 
'  nesB  in  his  final  sickness,  no  thorn  in  the  pillow  of 
his  repose,  no  distrust  of  the  Saviour,  no  lack  of 
confidence  in  God,  but  gloriously  the  reverse.  His 
light  was  that  of  the  perfect  day,  his  peace  was  as 
a  river,  he  believed  with  all  his  heart,  and  at  the 
time  of  his  extremest  pain  he  would  say,  with 
Job,  "Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in 
Him." 

My  mother  was  Mary,  daughter  of  John  and 
Sarah  Singeltary,  of  Cain  Hoy,  in  the  same  Parish 
of  St.  Thomas,  aforesaid :  another  place  of  the 
olden  time,  when  South  Carolina  was  peopled 
mainly  in  the  low  country,  and  Wando  river,  of 
whose  banks  Oain  Hoy  was  the  most  notable  place, 
shared  with  Ashley  river.  Cooper  river,  and  Goose 
creek,  in  a  high  reputation  for  society,  hospitality, 
and  all  that;  times  gone  by  with  the  generations 
whose  very  tombs  are  now  in  ruins.  But  by  one 
2 


26  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

conversant  with  those  times,  (the  late  Captain 
Hibben,  of  Haddrell's  Point,)  I  have  heard  my 
grandfather  spoken  of  as  "the  patriarch  of  Cain 
Hoy."  And  such  I  dare  say  he  was,  albeit  a  re- 
cent visitor  might  entertain  some  doubt  whether 
the  place  had  ever  produced  a  man.  But  truly 
there  used  to  be  men,  who  were  men  every  inch  of 
them,  not  only  on  Wando  river,  but  along^  creeks 
and  swamps  not  a  few,  where  now  a  ruined  canal, 
and  heaps  of  crumbling  bricks,  and  clumps  or  rows 
of  ornamental  trees,  tell  mournfully  of  death  and  a 
blight  upon  the  land. 

I  have  always  felt  it  a  pain  that  I  never  knew 
my  mother.  She  died  when  I  was  barely  over  two 
years  old.  Often  and  eagerly  have  I  inquired 
about  her:  her  person,  her  spirit,  her  piety,  her 
general  bearing ;  any  thing  that  might  help  to  raise 
an  image  of  her  in  my  mind.  In  this  way  I  have 
learned  that  she  was  rather  below  the  medium 
height  of  women,  delicately  formed,  of  fair  com- 
plexion and  light  hair,  with  soft  laughing  blue 
eyes,  gentle  but  sprightly,  affectionate  and  confid- 
ing, a  favorite  with  her  friends,  and  my  father's 
idol ;  and  that  her  sweet  spirit  was  ennobled  by  a 
true  Christian  faith  and  purity  of  heart.  I  am  in 
possession  of  a  letter  from  my  father  to  my  aunt, 
the  late  Mrs.  Bennett,  of  Haddrell's  Point,  in  which 
are  .related  incidents  of  her  final  hours  thrilling  to 
contemplate.  She  died  when  young,  and  rich  in 
blessings  precious  to  the  heart ;  but  she  was  more 
than  ready  to  obey  the  summons,  "to  be  absent 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


2T 


from  the  body  and  present  with  the  Lord."  Iler 
last  moments,  radiant  with  the  light  of  heaven 
before  her,  were  mostly  taken  up  with  soothing  ex- 
hortations to  her  husband,  and  prayers  and  bless- 
ings for  her  children.  These*  were  four :  Sarah, 
my  beloved  sister,  who  was  the  eldest,  Gabriel  the 
second,  myself  the  third,  and  John  Singeltary, 
(whose  birth  occasioned  her  death,)  the  fourth. 
She  had  had  a  second  daughter,  Mary  Singeltary, 
who  died  some  time  before  her. 

My  second  mother,  whose  name  also  was  Mary, 
was  a  daughter  of  Samuel  Wragg,  Esq.,  of  G-eorge- 
town ;  the  same  who  was  the  original  proprietor  of 
that  part  of  Charleston  called  Wraggsboro' ;  and 
after  whose  daughters,  Judith,  Elizabeth,  Ann, 
Charlotte,  Mary,  and  Henrietta,  the  streets  bearing 
those  names  were  called.  He  had  also  two  sons, 
John  and  Samuel.  My  aunts  (for  my  aunts  they 
were)  Judith  and  Elizabeth  lived  to  old  age, 
maiden  ladies  of  uncommon  understanding,  (parti- 
cularly Judith,)  and  distinguished  to  a  high  degree 
for  ardent  piety  and  active  benevolence.  They 
were  Christian  ladies,  and  Methodists  of  the  very 
first  model.  Ann  married  a  wealthy  gentleman  of 
the  name  of  Ferguson,  and  lived  in  Charleston, 
with  their  estate  on  Cooper  river.  They  were 
Episcopalians ;  and  she  was  for  many  years  Eirst 
Lady  Commissioner  of  the  Orphan  House,  which 
noble  institution  was  much  indebted  to  her,  and 
has  becomingly  acknowledged  it.  Charlotte  must 
have  died  when  young,  as  I  have  no  recollection  of 


28 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


her.  Henrietta,  the  youngest  of  the  daughters; 
married  Erasmus  Rothmahler,  Esq.,  of  an  old  and 
honorable  family,  and  a  lawyer  of  high  respects, 
but  (unfortunately)  an  eccentric  man.  Of  all  my 
near  friends  in  childhood  and  youth,  after  my 
father  and  mother,  I  loved  my  Aunt  Henrietta  best; 
and  to  this  day  I  remember  her  with  strong  affec- 
tion, and  I  might  say  admiration,  as  a  pattern  of 
all  social  excellence.  And  she  too  was  a  thorough 
Methodist. 

In  what  follows  I  will  be  understood  always  to 
mean  my  father's  second  wife,  my  second  mother, 
by  the  appellative  mother.  I  knew  no  other  mother, 
and  I  should  offend  the  heart  that  throbs  in  my 
bosom  were  I  to  call  her  stepmother.  She  was  my 
mother,  and  in  heaven,  in  the  presence  of  the 
sainted  one  who  bore  me,  I  will  call  her  mother. 
Pity  on  those  poor  children  who,  by  their  father's 
marriage,  have  stepmothers  onl}^  My  early  recol- 
lections mingle  sweet  images  of  my  mother's  love 
and  sympathy  with  all  that  concerned  me.  I  was 
liable  to  attacks  of  croup  on  any  exposure  to  damp 
weather ;  and  so  on  rainy  days  I  became  her  house- 
keeper, carrying  a  bunch  of  keys  at  my  side,  giving 
from  the  pantry  breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper,  with 
free  use  of  the  barrel  of  sugar  and  molasses-candy 
for  my  pains — the  indulgence,  by  the  way,  being 
itself  remedial.  By  a  thousand  arts  of  kind  en- 
dearment she  attached  me  to  her  so  closely,  that  1 
scarcely  felt  it  a  privation  to  be  shut  up  with  her  in 
the  house,  while  my  brothers  were  pursuing  their 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


29 


sports  in  the  fields.  Those  days  were  invaluable  to 
me.  ,  Converse  with  my  mother  was  communion 
with  my  guardian  angel,  while  my  good  sister's 
blithesome  spirit  (foi^  she  was  always  by)  contri- 
buted no  little  to  my  happiness. 

My  father's  second  marriage  was  in  1793,  and 
shortly  afterwards  he  disposed  of  his  estate  in  St. 
Thomas's  Parish,  purchased  a  plantation  on  the  is- 
land between  Waccamaw  and  Black  rivers,  and  re- 
moved his  residence  to  Georgetown.  While  his  win- 
ter residence  had  been  on  Bull  Head,  in  St.  Thomas's, 
he  passed  his  summers  at  ^  place  which  he  called 
Capernaum,  on  the  seashore,  nearly  opposite  Ca- 
pers's  Island,  in  Christ  Church  Parish.  He  now 
desired  to  find  such  a  seashore  place  on  Waccamaw 
Neck ;  and  as  be  did  not  like  to  live  in  town,  and 
his  island  plantation  was  a  deep  mud-swamp,  un- 
suitable for  his  residence,  he  was  inclined  to  locate 
himself  permanently  on  the  Waccamaw  seashore. 
A  summer  or  two  were  passed  at  a  rented  place 
called  La  Bruce' s,  while  for  the  winter  and  spring 
he  resided  in  town ;  and  then  he  purchased  a  place 
some  twenty  miles  from  Georgetown,  which  he  called 
Belle-  Vue,  and  at  which  we  lived  during  the  years 
1796,  '97,  and  '98.  It  was  beantifully  open  to  the 
ocean,  having  the  prospect  pleasantly  dotted  with 
clumps  of  trees  in  the  marshes,  (called  hammocks,) 
and  points  of  uncleared  woods  on  the  main  land. 
My  recollections  go  back  to  the  year  1795,  at  La 
Bruce's  seashore,  where  I  killed  a  glass  snake,  the 
image  of  which  is  still  fresh  to  my  mind ;  and  how, 


30  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


as  I  broke  it  to  pieces  witli  a  small  stick,  tlie  pieces, 
when  broken  square  off,  wormed  themselves  about 
as  if  alive.  There,  too,  I  myself  had  like  to  have 
been  killed  by  a  vicious  horse ;  and  there  we  had 
the  sport  of  smoking  off  the  sand-flies.  Do  not 
laugh*  Prince  Albert's  boys  never  had  a  merrier 
play.  But  Belle  Yue  was  my  childhood's  darling 
liome.  Here  were  those  spacious  old  fields,  over- 
grown with  dog-fennel,  which  my  brother  John  and 
myself  used  to  course  with,  such  exquisite  glee, 
mounted  on  cornstalk  horses,  with  bows  and  ar- 
rows, when  the  dog-fennel  served  for  woods,  and  a 
cock-sparrow  might  be  an  old  buck.  Here  stood 
by  the  side  of  a  purling  branch,  that  grove  of  tall 
trees  w^here  we  found  the  grape-vine,  by  w^hich  we 
used  to  swing  so  pleasantly.  Here  w^e  had  our 
traps  for  catching  birds,  and  caught  them  plenti- 
fully;, and  the  damp  days  found  me  with  my  mother 
and  sister  and  the  little  ones,  all  so  happy.  And 
here  I  got  that  masterly  book  for  little  boys,  "  Sand- 
ford  and  Merton;"  which,-  in  my  mother's  hand, 
proved  invaluable  to  me.  And,  like  Harry  and 
Tommy,  my  brothers  and  I  would  build  little  houses 
wattled  of  clapboards  and  small  poles,  and  exult 
in  our  fancied  manliness  and  capacity  for  independ- 
ence. But  we  were  sure  to  have  a  stronger  arm 
and  better  understanding  than  our  own  in  all  these 
achievements  of  ours  ;  and  without  which  it  might 
have  been  more  than  doubtful  whether,  after  all, 
we  should  have  proved  so  competent  to  our  under- 
takings.   Bless  my  father !    Blessed  be  God  that 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


31 


ho  was  my  father !  What  should  Belle  Vue,  with 
all  its  play-places,  have  been  without  his  super- 
intendence, who  seemed  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of . 
our  childish  entertainments  as  if  he  had  been  a 
child  himself,  while  still  he  never  seemed  below  the 
stature  of  the  noblest  man  ? 

But  I  must  tell  an  anecdote  or  two  of  these,  early 
years  which  savor  less  of  simple,  amiable  child- 
,  hood.  My  father  was  exceeding  fond  of  gardens, 
and  had  a  large  one ;  and  we,  his  sons,  fond  of 
doing  like  him,  must  also  have  our  gardens.  A 
bed  was  appropriated  to  each  one  of  us,  (Gabriel, 
myself,  and  John,)  which  we  subdivided  into  tiny 
beds,  with  narrow  walks  between,  for  the  cultiva- 
tion of  just  any  thing  we  pleased.  E-adishes  were 
our  favorite  vegetable.  I  had  them  in  my  garden 
full  grown,  while  John's  were  but  lately  up.  We 
were  together  in  our  gardens,  which  touched  each 
other,  and  John  wanted  one  of  my  radishes.  Un- 
luckily, I  was  out  of  humor,  and  refused  him. 
Unused  to  this,  for  generally  we  were  fond  to  serve 
each  other,  he  heeded  not  my  refusal,  but  plucked  a 
radish.  This  was  an  invasion  of  my  rights,  which, 
in  the  mood  I  happened  to  be  in,  I  would  not  per- 
mit ;  and  so,  instead  of  laughing  at  it,  as  at  another 
time  I  might  have  done,  I  plucked  a  handful  of  his 
little  ones  in  retaliation — reckoning  the  equivalent 
(if  I  reckoned  at  all)  by  bulk.  This  angered  him, 
and  he  avenged  himself  by  pulling  up  a  quantity 
of  mine,  as  if  reckoning  by  number  for  his  com- 
plement.   A  few  minutes,  and  the  radishes  wero 


32 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


destroyed,  both  mine  and  his,  and  we  were  greatly 
enraged  against  each  other.  At  that  moment  our 
father,  who  had  been  observing  us  from  another 
part  of  the  garden,  interfered ;  and,  as  I  was  the 
older,  addressed  himself  first  to  me.  The  fault,  I 
insisted,  was  altogether  John's,  who  had  no  right' 
to  pluck  my  radishes  against  my  will.  He  (my 
father)  would  let  no  man  serve  him  so ;  and  had 
fought  the  British  for  no  worse  ofience.  But  m^ 
logic  could  not  answer.  "I  must  whip  you,"  saivA 
he;  "and  take  your  jacket  off."  "Whip  me,  sir, 
for  John's  fault  ?"  "  For  your  own  fault,  not  John's." 
"I  declare.  Pa,  'tis  all  John's  fault;  and  I'll  pull 
off  my  shirt  too,  if  you  say  so."  "  Off  with  it,"  was 
the  brief  rejoinder;  and  oft'  it  came,  when  a  smart 
stroke  of  a  switch  across  my  naked  shoulders,  (the 
first  I  had  ever  felt,)  brought  me  as  by  magic  to  my 
senses.  It  was  the  only  stroke  of  punishment  ever 
inflicted  on  me  by  that  honored  hand. 

My  recollection  of  incidents  of  this  period  of  my 
childhood  is  vivid  enough  as  to  facts,  but  the  order 
of  them  as  to  time  I  cannot  so  well  remember.  I 
date  about  a  year  later  than  the  affair  of  the  rad- 
ishes the  following  story  of  the  top.  Both  belong 
to  Belle  Yue,  and  must  have  happened  between  the 
years  1796  and  1799.  My  brothers  and  myself  had 
each  obtained  a  top,  which  neither  of  us  could 
spin ;  and  a  thought  seized  me  to  practice  by  my- 
self at  spinning  my  top,  which,  as  other  boys  could 
do  it,  I  might  learn,  and  by  learning  it  sooner  than 
my  brothers,  might  win  some  wager  of  them ;  (for 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


33 


each  of  us  liad  something  for  his  own  of  almost 
every  kind  of  property  ou  the  place.)  In  a  short 
time  I  had  spun  the  top,  and,  elated  with  my  suc- 
cess, ran  eagerly  to  find  niy  brothers,  that  I  might 
make  a  bet.  But  they  were  abroad  somew^here  in 
.  the  fields,  and  a  wager  must  be  ventured  with  my 
father,  (if  possibly  he  might  be  induced  to  make 
one,)  or  my  betting  must  be  postponed  to  another 
time.  Too  eager  to  allow  of  postponement,  the 
venture  was  made  in  an  oif-hand  manner  on  the 
spot.  The  stake  was  my  heifer  against  his  saddle- 
horse  'that  I  could  spin  my  top.  "Done,"  said  my 
father,  and  I  spun  the  top.  Fantom  was  mine,  and 
I  capered  about  the  room,  and  would  have  run  to 
the  stable  to  admire  and  caress  him,  but  my  father 
sternly  stopped  me.  "  Honor  even  among  rogues," 
said  he,  "  and  if  you  turn  gambler,  you  must  do  it 
as  they  say,  honorably.  You  are  not  to  leave  off 
without  giving  me  a  chance  to  win  my  horse  back." 
Another  trial,  and  I  lost  the  horse.  Another,  and 
another,  and  yet  others ;  and  bursting  into  tears 
I  ran  out  of  the  room,  having  lost  every  thing  I 
called  my  own  except  a  favorite  white  pullet.  For 
three  days  I  bewailed  my  folly  with  all  the  bitter- 
ness of  utter  bankruptcy ;  while  my  brothers  were 
unsparing  of  their  gibes,  and  my  father  seemed 
coolly  indifferent  to  it  all.  At  last,  finding  me  sit- 
ting moodily  alone,  he  approached  with  his  usual 
good-humor,  and  said  he  wanted  to  make  a  bargain 
with  me.  "A  bargain,  sir!"  said  I,  "what  have  I 
to  bargain  with  ?  You  have  got  all  I  had  from  me. 
2 


34  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


And  if  I  had  spoken  all  that  I  felt,  I  might  have 
added,  that  he  knew  it  was  wrong  to  bet,  and  ought 
to  have  whipped  me  for  offering  him  a  wager,  and 
not  to  have  done  as  he  had  done.  But  he  insisted 
that  I  was  quite  able  to  make  the  bargain  he  de- 
sired ;  and  when  he  had  constrained  me  to  ask 
w^hat  it  was,  he  told  me  that  all  he  had  won  should 
be  restored  to  me,  and  should  be  mine  again  just 
as  it  formerly  was,  if  I  would  pledge  myself  never 
again  to  bet  the  value  of  a  pin  ;  and  on  the  further 
condition,  that  if  ever  I  did  bet,  I  should  forfeit  to 
him  whatever  should  be  mine  at  the  time  of  bet- 
ting. E'ever  was  a  proposition  more  eagerly  em- 
braced; and  the  final  result  of  this  strange  inci- 
dent was,  that  I  became  so  thoroughly  averse  from 
betting  as  never  afterwards  to  be  induced  to  bet. 
Long  after  all  fear  of  the  forfeit  originally  pledged 
had  passed  from  my  mind,  and  until  a  better  gua- 
ranty was  furnished  me  in  the  grace  of  God,  I  not 
only  hated  betting  so  as  never  to  lay  a  wager,  but 
hated  it  to  such  a  degree  that  I  would  break  off 
from  any  company  I  chanced  to  be  in,  the  moment 
it  was  proposed  to  play  at  any  game  for  money. 

But  it  is  time  for  me  to  take  leave  of  Belle  Vue. 
"When  my  father  purchased  it,  he  did  so  with  an 
expectation  of  its  proving  healthy.  It  was  incon- 
veniently distant  from  his  plantation,  and  we  had 
so  few  neighbors  that  to  get  a  school  he  was  obliged 
to  employ  a  teacher  at  his  own  expense.  ^Teverthe- 
less,  for  the  sake  of  a  pleasant  and  healthy  resi- 
dence, with  the  treasures  of  the  sea  at  hand,  these 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


85 


inconveniences  were  not  deemed  considerable. 
But  the  fall  of  the  year  1798  proved  extremely 
sickly  to  us,  and  my  precious  little  sister  Judith 
died.  On  this  account,  mainly,  Belle  Vue  was 
given  up,  and  for  the  year  1799  we  resided  in 
Georgetown.  Not  that  this  change  could  have 
promised  exemption  from  disease,  but  that  in  case 
of  sickness  we  should  there  have  medical  aid. 
Belle  Vue  had  proved  sickly;  Georgetown  might 
not  be  more  so  ;  and  the  latter  place  brought  my 
father  near  to  his  business,  my  mother  near  her  sis- 
ters, and  all  of  us  near  the  physician.  But  we  were 
not  to  suffer  less  by  this  removal ;  for  the  autumn  of 
1799  was  more  fatal  to  our  family  than  the  previous 
one  had  been.  All  of  us  were  sick;  another 
younger  sister  (Elizabeth)  died;  I  myself  escaped 
death  as  by  miracle  ;  and  the  fatal  blow  was  struck 
which  deprived  my  father  of  one  of  the  best  of 
'wives,  and  me  of  my  incomparable  mother.  The 
following  winter  my  widowed  father  dismissed  his 
overseer,  and  the  plantation  became  our  home.  Dur- 
ing the  year  1800  I  was  daily  put  across  the  river  in  a 
>  small  boat  with  my  brothers,  and  went  to  Mr. 
Harnett's  school  in  Georgetown.  We  dined  with  our 
good  aunts,  the  Misses  Wragg,  and  returned  home  in 
the  evening  as  we  had  come  in  the  morning,  a  servant 
always  having  the  boat  in  readiness  for  us  at  the 
river-bank,  in  sight  of  town.  My  father  seldom 
went  to  town,  nor,  indeed,  anywhere  else ;  and  yet 
my  young  heart  knew  not  that  he  was  unhappy. 
The  next  spring  (1801)  I  was  sent,  with  my  brother 


36  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

Gabriel,  to  school  on  Pee-Dee,  some  thirty  miles 
from  Georgetown,  where  a  Mr.  Collins  was  the 
teacher ;  but,  for  some  sufficient  cause,  he  suddenly 
left  his  charge,  and  after  a  month  or  two  we  re- 
turned home. 

This  period,  when  the  island  rice-swamp  was  my 
home,  introduced  me  to  the  use  of  a  gun.  It  was 
before  the  Northern  lakes  had  been  much  settled, 
on  which  bred  so  many  myriads  of  ducks- and  wild 
geese ;  and  these  migrated  to  our  low  country- rivers 
and  rice-fields  for  the  winters,  in  prodigious  num- 
bers. From  my  father's  river-bank  on  the  Wacca- 
maw  on  one  side,  or  the  Black  river  on  the  other, 
innumerable  fiocks  of  them  might  at  any  time  be 
seen;  and  better-flavored  birds  than  several  varie- 
ties of  the  ducks  were,  after  they  had  grown  fat  on 
the  waste  rice,  I  know  not.  My  father  taught  me 
the  use  of  the  gun  with  great  care :  how  to  handle 
it,  to  load  it,  to  shoot  w^ith  a  true  aim,  and  to  keep 
it  in  good  order ;  so  that  before  I  was  tw^elve  years 
old  I  believe  I  was  as  safe  in  the  use  of  this  dan- 
gerous implement  as, I  have  since  been,  and  nearly 
or  quite  as  good  a  marksman.  I  generally  shot 
ducks  in  the  river ;  observing  from  a  distance  at  what 
particular  points  they  w^ere  nearest  to  the  land,  and 
then  creeping  after  them  behind  the  rivef-bank, 
(that  is,  the  embankment  raised  along  tfie  margin 
of  the  river  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  off  the 
water  at  the  flood-tide.)  A  well-trained  dog  kept 
close  behind  me,  creeping  when  he  saw  me  creep, 
or  stopping  at  a  motion  of  my  hand,  and  instantly 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  37 


on  the  firing  of  the  gun  springing  into  the  water 
and  fetching  out  the  game.  So  abundant  were 
the;^?',  iind  easj  to  be  shot,  that  I  would  not  fire  at 
inferior  kinds,  but  only  at  the  large  gray  duck,  the 
mallard  or  English  duck,  the  bullneck,  or  the  deli- 
cious little  teal ;  which  last  was  the  least  common, 
and  was  most  esteemed,  though  not  more  than  a 
third  as  large  as  the  black  or  gray  duck,  or  half  as 
large  as  the  mallard. 

But  farewell  to  the  island  and  its  game,  after 
only  one  incident  of  imminent  peril  to  me.  It  was 
some  time  in  the  summer  of  1800  that,  as  we  were 
sitting  in  the  piazza  overlooking  the  fields,  we  were 
startled  at  seeing  the  whole  gang  of  negroes,  men 
and  women,  running  as  for  life  towards  the  house. 
My  father,  my  brother  Gabriel  and  myself  ran  out 
to  know  the  cause,  and  thought  we  heard  the  fore- 
most ones  crying  out,  "A  deer,  a  deer!"  My  father 
took  his  gun.  in  haste,  thinking  that  a  deer  chased 
by  hunters  on  the  Waccamaw  side  of  the  river 
had  swum  across  it,  and  was  making  for  the  un- 
cleared swamp  just  in  our  rear,  and  that  he  would 
run  probably  on  the  western  side  of  the  settlement, 
where  he  might  get  a  shot  at  him.  On  the  eastern 
side  was  the  barnyard,  and  mill  for  pounding  rice ; 
and  to  preyent  his^  goiiig  that  way,  and  to  increase 
the  chances  for  a  shot  on  the  other,  he  bade  my 
brother  and  me  to  run  in  that  direction  Avith  the 
dogs,  l^ow,  for  the  special  security  of  the  barnyard, 
there  was  a  much  higher  embankment  thrown  up 


38  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

around  it  tlian  around  other  parts  of  the  settlement, 
so  that  we  could  not  see  over  it  what  might  be  run- 
niDg  in  the  fields  beyond.  With  the  dogs,  then,  we 
made  all  speed  to  the  barnyard,  entered  it,  were 
running  across  it,  and  at  the  very  point  of  rising 
on  the  farther  bank,  there  met  us  on  the  top  of  it, 
and  just  opposite  the  point  we  had  reached,  a  great 
bear.  Petrified  with  horror,  we  could  not,  at  first, 
move  a  peg.  The  dogs  had  better  command  of  their 
legs,  and,  except  Dash,  (the  dog  that  fetched  the 
ducks,)  they  ran  away  at  the  top  of  their  speed. 
O,  that  frightful  bear!  He  growled,  raised  his 
bristles,  champed  with  his  teeth,  bent  his  body  like 
a  bow,  all  before  we  could  do  any  thing  more  than 
stare  at  him.  But  Dash  delivered  us.  Quick  as 
was  the  retreat  of  the  rest,  was  his  advance  upon 
the  frightful  foe  ;  and  it  seemed  to  be  his  bark  that 
relaxed  our  nerves  and  enabled  us  to  run.  "We  had 
not  so  much  as  a  stick  in  our  hands.  Dash  seized 
the  bear  just  by  the  tail,  and  obliged  him  to  give 
him  his  attention.  Bruin  shook  him  off  and  made 
at  us  ;  but  again  Dash  had  him  by  the  hinder  jjarts. 
And  thus  it  was  between  them  several  minutes,  till 
my  father,  learning  his  mistake,  came  running,  and 
the  whole  plantation  with  him,  to  the  rescue. 
XeoToes  are  famous  for  their  noisiness  when  ex- 
cited ;  but  did  ever  the  same  number  make  such  a 
noise  as  those  then  did,  as  entering  the  barnyard 
they  saw  the  danger  we  were  in  ?  At  any  rate, 
they  scared  that  bear  no  less  than  they  gave  us 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


39 


courage,  and  he  made  away  as  fast  as  he  could,  and 
hid  himself  under  the  mill,  lie  was  made  bacon 
of  afterwards,  and  I  ate  some  of  it. 

In  September,  1801,  my  brother  Gabriel  and  my- 
self were  sent  to  Dr.  Koberts's  academy,  near 
Statesburg,  in  Sumter  District,  and  were  boarded 
with  a  Mrs.  Jefterson.  And  this  I  reckon  an  im- 
portant epoch  in  my  life.  Hitherto,  whether  in 
Georgetown,  at  Belle  Vue,  or  at  the  island  planta- 
tion, I  had  been  accustomed  to  all  the  endearments 
of  home,  sweet  home ;  a  home  w^here  all  my  wants 
were  anticipated,  and  not  only  every  comfort  was 
at  hand,  but  the  ministries  of  tender  love  were  ever 
active  for  my  happiness.  The  death  of  my  mother 
was  a  sore  affliction;  but  my  sister  (then  just 
grown)  became  to  me  sister  and  mother  both,  and 
what  was  there  lacking  to  me?  Truly,  nothing. 
But  how  different  was  it  with  me  now,  boarding  a 
hundred  miles  away  with  Mrs.  Jefferson.  To  what 
purpose  had  my  heart  been  cultivated,  when  there 
was  no  one  to  sympathize  with  me,  and  whom  I 
might  love  ?  That  I  slept  on  a  mattress  on  the 
floor,  with  sheets  of  osnaburgs,  and  that  my  fare 
consisted  of  middling  bacon  and  corn-bread,  was 
a  secondary  matter.  I  felt  a  burden  of  want  of 
another  kind,  though  this  also  seemed  severe. 
True,  my  brother  Gabriel  was  with  me,  but  where 
were  my  father,  my  sister,  my  brother  John,  and 
my  younger  brother  and  sisters,  Samuel,  Mary,  and 
Henrietta  ?  Could  my  one  brother  be  all  these  to 
me  ?    Of  necessity  I  sought  to  be  loved  by  m}' 


40 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


hostess,  and  plied  every  art  in  mj  power  to  induce 
it,  but  to  no  purpose^  'Nor  could  I  love  her  any 
more  than  I  could  make  her  love  me.  She  did, 
indeed,  once  compliment  me  as  the  best  of  her 
boarders ;  but  the  very  term  boarders^  in  the  cold, 
long-drawn  utterance  she  gave  it,  told  me  that  she 
did  not  love  me.  And  then  when  she  picked  the 
thorn  out  of  my  foot  with  a  coarse  needle,  she  did 
it  so  roughly,  never  pitying  me  nor  seeming  to 
know  that  she  was  putting  me  to  pain,  though  the 
blood  trickled  from  the  wound.  The  case  was 
hopeless,  and  I  was  forced  to  retire  within  myself 
to  supply  as  I  might  the  want,  the  broad  waste 
want  of  home.  And  yet  she  was  a  very  good 
woman. 

But  every  day  was  improving  my  bodily  health 
and  strength.  And  though  I  fed  on  little  else  than 
corn-bread,  (for  I  could  not  brook  the  middling 
bacon,)  I  was  far  more  active  and  growing  faster 
than  ever  before.  My  boarding-house  stood  on  the 
main  road  between  Statesburg  and  Camden,  just 
three  miles  from  the  former  place,  and  touching 
the  road.  The  academy  was  a  mile  and  a  half 
from  it,  on  the  summit  of  a  hill ;  and  this  distance 
was  my  daily  walk  to  and  from  school.  The  mid- 
day recess  was  passed  at  the  schoolhouse,  to  which 
we  carried  our  dinner  of  corn-bread  and  bacon  in 
a  large  tin  bucket.  And  for  dinner,  my  usual 
practice  was  to  throw  away  the  bacon,  and  repair 
to  a  neighboring  spring  of  cold  pure  water,  with  a 
pone  of  bread,  and  there  substituting  my  hand  or 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


41 


a  hickory  leaf  for  a  cup,  make  my  meal,  right 
frugally  at  least.  At  first  I  could  not  possibly 
make  the  walk  to  school  without  resting  by  the 
wa}^ ;  and  even  to  ascend  the  hill  on  which  the 
schoolhouse  stood  put  me  out  of  breath ;  but  it 
was  not  long  before  I  could  even  run  the  whole 
distance.  The  truth  was,  that  up  to  this  period  I 
had  been  but  a  puny  child ;  frequently  sick,  some- 
times extremely  ill ;  and  but  for  this  great  change 
must  probably  have  grown  up,  if  at  all,  too  delicate 
of  con8,titution  for  laborious  life.  I  am  so  fully  of 
this  persuasion,  as  to  regard  it  providential  that 
my  father's  business  would  not  allow  of  his  accom- 
panying us  on  our  way  up,  and  we  were  committed 
to  the  care  of  a  onesided  friend  of  his  to  be  entered 
at  the  academy  and  suitably  boarded.  Mr.  Camp- 
bell could,  but  our  father  could  not  have  subjected 
us  to  the  extreme  privations  of  such  a  boarding- 
house  as  ours,  and  the  exposure  of  so  long  a 
walk  in  all  kinds  of  weather:  privations  and  ex- 
posures, nevertheless,  for  which  I  have  long  since 
known  no  regret,  but.  on  the  contrary,  have  felt 
thankful. 

And  here  both  nature  and  gratitude  require  me 
to  introduce  the  nanie  of  my  father's  only  brother, 
Captain  George  Sinclair  Capers,  my  most  kind  and 
truly  honored  uncle.  Some  years  pi^eviously  to 
this  time  he  had  removed  from  St.  James's,  Santee, 
to  Sumter  District,  and  located  himself  in  what 
was  called  Rembert's  Settlement,  some  eight  or 
nine  miles  from  our  academy ;  and  our  Saturdays 


12 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


and  Sundays  were  usually  passed  with  him.  His 
practice  was  to  send  horses  for  us  every  Friday 
evening,  and  send  us  back  again  on  Monday  morn- 
ing. Kature,  how  true  is  nature !  and  a  child's 
heart  is  nature's  own.  I  could  love  nothing  be- 
longing to  my  boarding-house,  and  had  no  play- 
places  there  ;  no,  not  one  ;  unless  a  wide-spreading 
oak  should  be  called  a  play-place,  to  which  I  used 
to  withdraw  myself  and  sit  among  the  boughs  for 
hours  together  in  moody  reveries  of  home.  But  I 
loved  the  very  horse  that  carried  me  to  my  uncle's 
door ;  and  there  every  thing  interested  me.  I  was 
loved,  and  was  so  far  happy. 

About  the  close  of  the  year  1801,  my  father  ex- 
changed his  island  plantation  for  one  on  Wacca- 
maw  river,'  adjoining  the  estate  of  John  Tucker, 
Esq. ;  tired,  I  suppose,  of  living  in  a  swamp, 
where  his  very  dwelling-house  had  to  be  protected 
from  the  overflowing  tides  by  embankments. 
Home  was  thus  again  transferred  to  Waccamaw, 
though  it  was  not  long  to  be  continued  so.  The 
Christmas  holidays  of  1802, 1803,  and  1804,  were  all 
I  enjoyed  of  it;  the  first  with  boundless  satisfac- 
tion ;  and  the  second  and  third  only  less  so  because 
of  the  absence  of  my  sister,  now  married  in  Sum- 
ter District:  'if  I  might  not  also  suppose  that  with 
less  of  innocency  there  is  usually  less  of  the  pure 
zest  of  pleasure  at  fourteen  than  eleven. 

I  have  gone  over,  thus  hastily,  that  period  of  my 
life  which  of  all  others  interests  me  most.  Can  it 
be  peculiar  to  myself  that  at  my  time  of  life  I 


AUTOBIOQRAPHY. 


43 


should  delight  greatly  in  recollections  of  my  child- 
hood; reenacting,  as  it  were,  the  scenes,  and  pas- 
times of  the  little  boy — my  own  cMldhood's  fond 
amusements — for  the  entertainment  of  my  gray 
hairs  ?  A  few  years  ago  I  found  a  habit  of  indulg- 
ing such  fancies  growing  on  me  to  such  a  degree 
that  I  thought  it  proper  to  restrain  myself;  and 
yet  to  some  extent  it  may  not  prove  amiss,  but 
even  wholesome.  I  love  my  childhood  for  its  inno- 
cence, its  harmless  gayety,  its  simple  gladsome 
pastimes',  its  gushing  sympathies,  its  treasures  of 
affection,  its  unsuspecting  confidence,  its  joyous-' 
ness,  its  happy  world  of  home.  I  love  it  because 
it  was  artless  and  without  guile  or  guilt,  free  from 
the  curse  and  blight  of  carking  care,  uncorrupted, 
trustful,  self-satisfied.  In  a  word,  I  love  it  for  its 
naturalness,  and  because  I  was  happy  in  it.  Bless- 
ings on  the  memory  of  my  honored  parents  that  it 
was  so !  And  I  say  now,  let  the  children  be 
children.  Let  them  have  their  plays  in  their  own 
way,  and  choose  them  for  themselves.  We  only 
spoil  it  by  interfering.  And  I  say  more:  away 
with  all  sickly  sentimentalism,  and  the  cruelty  of 
unnatural  constraint.  What  a  deprivation  it  would 
have  been  to  me  at  Belle  Yue  to  have  been  refused 
my  traps  because  it  was  cruel  to  catch  the  birds ! 
But  I  had  my  traps,  and  never  dreamed  of  any 
cruelty  in  the  matter.  My  father  made  the  first 
one  for  me,  and  taught  me  how  to  make  them,  and 
how  to  set  them,  and  to  choose  proper  places  for 
them.    But  he  never  made  a  cage  for  me,  nor  did 


44 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


I  ever  want  him  to  make  one.  God  had  given  me 
the  birds  to  eat,  if  I  could  catch  them ;  but  not  to 
shut  them  up  in  cages  where  they  could  do  me  no 
good.  1^0  artificial  cases  of  conscience  were  made 
for  me.  I  loved  the  birds.  I  loved  to  see  -their 
pretty  feathers,  and  to  hear  them  sing ;  but  I  loved 
to  taste  of  their  flesh  still  better.  And  I  might  do 
so  as  inoffensively  as  a  cat,  for  any  thing  I  was 
taught.  The  use  gave  the  measure  of  right  in  the 
case.  Such  as  I  could  not  eat  I  would  not  catch. 
And  I  hate  this  day  the  mawkish  philosophy  which 
gives  to  the  birds  the  sympathy  due  to  the  child- 
ren. Let  the  children  be  free  and  active.  Let 
them  have  a  mind  and  will.  And  let  them  have 
a  parent's  gentle,  faithful  guidance  :  neither  the  ill- 
judging  weakness  which  is  ever  teasing  them  with  ' 
interjections  that  mean  nothing;  nor  the  false  re- 
finement which,  while  it  must  have  the  birds  go 
free  to  carol  in  the  groves,  makes  caged  birds  of  the 
little  children;  nor  the  tyranny  of  constraining 
them  out  of  all  their  simple  gleeful  nature  to  be- 
have like  old  people. 

My  father  married  a  third  wife  early  in  the  year 
1803,  and  began  to  spend  his  summers  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Bradford's  Springs,  in  Sumter 
District.  Some  time  before  this,  my  boarding- 
house  at  school  had  been  changed  from  the  place 
before  mentioned  to  that  of  my  preceptor,  hard  by 
the  academy.  This  was  a  decided  improvement ; 
for  Mr.  Roberts  not  only  furnished  better  fare,  but 
was  himself  a  man  for  one  to  love  and  honor. 


AUTOBIOaRAPHY. 


45 


The  summers  of  1803,  1804,  and  1805,  were  passed 
pleasantly  enough,  while  the  Saturdays  and  Sun- 
days were  spent  at  our  new  summer  home,  with 
delightful  visits  to  my  honored  uncle  and  beloved 
sister,  then  Mrs.  Guerry.  A  summer  residence 
near  Bradford's  Springs  was  well  enough ;  but  my 
father  was  too  active  to  be  content  at  such  a  dis- 
tance from  his  plantation,  and  without  any  positive 
employment  to  occupy  his  time.  This  change  for 
the  summer,  therefore,  led  to  a  much  more  im- 
portant one,  which,  as  things  turned  out,  proved 
highly  detrimental  on  the  score  of  property.  In 
1805  he  was  induced  to  sell  his  plantation  on 
"Waccamaw  river,  and  purchase  a  cotton  plantation 
on  the  Wateree,  near  Statesburg.  He  sold  also 
his  summer  place  the  following  year,  and  pur- 
chased a  seat  fOr  permanent  residence  on  the  Hills, 
some  five  or  six  miles  from  the  Wateree  plantation, 
and  just  three  and  a  half  miles  from  Statesburg,  on 
the  road  to  Darlington.  I  do  not  remember  the 
price,  and  cannot  judge  of  its  sufficiency,  for  the 
"Waccamaw  place ;  but  the  price  given 'for  th^  place 
purchased  in  its  stead  was  certainly  low  enough. 
He  gave  for  it  six  thousand  dollars.  And  this 
must  have  been  low ;  for  when  five  years  after- 
wards he  judged  it  prudent  to  sell  it,  and  remove 
to  a  less  valuable  place  in  the  Black  river  portion 
of  the  Districtj  it  brought  him  eleven  thousand 
dollars.  And  when  the  payment  of  the  last  instal- 
ment of  this  sum  was  refused,  on  the  pretext  that 
some  particular  portion  of  the  land  deemed  better 


46  LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

than  tlie  rest  had  fallen  short  of  the  quantity  sup- 
posed, Mr.  McLauchlan,  the  next  neighbor,  and  a 
responsible  man,  said  on  his  oath  in  court  that  he 
believed  it  to  be  worth  twenty  thousand  dollars. 
This  was  after  the  close  of  the  war,  and  the  price 
of  cotton  had  risen  very  much ;  but  eleven  thou- 
sand dollars  was  the  price  stipulated  during  the 
war,  when  the  price  of  cotton  was  at  its  lowest. 
And  yet  my  father  made  a  sad  bargain  in  purchas- 
ing it  for  that  much  smaller  sum  of  six  thousand 
dollars,  as  this  purchase  involved  the  sale  of  his 
rice  lands,  and  the  transfer  of  his  planting  interest 
from  rice  to  cotton,  just  at  the  point  of  time  when 
the  value  of  a  rice  crop  was  to  be  doubled,  and  that 
of  a  cotton  crop  reduced  to  almost  nothing,  l^ever- 
theless,  God's  hand  was  in  it  for  good.  My  mother's 
dying  prayers  had  not  yet  been  answered;  nor 
might  they  have  been  on  Waccamaw  without  a 
miracle.  Her  daughter  was  now  a  mother,  and  her 
sons  were  fast  growing  up  without  knowing  her 
God  in  the  light  of  her  faith,  or  being  concerned 
so  to  know  Him. 

I  was  continued  with  Dr.  Roberts  till  Decem- 
ber, 1805,  when  I  was  admitted  into  the  South 
Carolina  College.  This  Dr.  John  M.  Eoberts  was 
a  minister  of  the  Baptist  Church ;  a  most  estim- 
able man  and  a  good  scholar,  but  an  imperfect 
teacher.  In  Latin  his  text-books  were  Corderius, 
Erasmus,  Cornelius  ISTepos,  Csesar,  Sallust,  Virgil, 
Cicero's  Orations,  and  Horace's  Odes  and  Art  of 
Poetry.    These  I  had  read,  and  could  translate 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


47 


after  a  fashion,  but  had  little  knowledge  of  the 
analysis  of  what  was  translated.  In  recitation,  our 
too  easy  instructor  seemed  to  be  more  apprehen- 
sive of  detecting  the  deficiency  of  his  pupils,  than 
we  were  of  being  exposed.  His  manner  was  that 
of  one  who  might  not  expect  us  to  know  what  we 
ought  to  have  know^n;  and  asking  us  only  ques- 
tions as  to  points  of  obvious  construction,  he 
reserved  to  himself  the  parsing  of  all  difficult  pas- 
sages. Of  Greek,  I  had  read  the  Gospel  by  St. 
John,  and  one  or  two  of  the  Epistles,  and  perhaps 
a  third  part  of  Xenophon's  Cyropedia.  And  with 
only  this  exceeding  lame  preparation,  I  was  to 
enter  the  Sophomore  class.  It  was  little  better  than 
preposterous ;  and  yet  so  did  I  rely  on  my  teacher's 
judgment,  and  so  did  Dr.  Maxcy,  the  President  of 
the  college,  rely  on  it,  or  on  his  representations  of 
me,  that  with  no  higher  pretensions  I  actually  was 
admitted  Sophomore.  Dr.  Maxcy  did  indeed  tell 
me  that  my  examination  had  not  been  satisfactory, 
and  did  not  justify  my  admission,  and  that  he  would 
prefer  to  have  me  enter  college  as  Freshman. 
But  I  was  out  for  Sophomore  ;  and  Sophomore  it 
was,  sadly  to  my  cost.  For  to  say  nothing  of 
geometry,  and  other  studies,  in  which  my  class- 
mates were  ahead,  of  me ;  and  even  overlooking 
my  deficiency  in  Latin,  of  which  I  knew  little 
more  than  barely  to  turn  it  into  English,  what  pos- 
sibly might  I  do  with  the  Greek  ?  Homer  was  the 
text-book,  when  I  knew  not  much  of  the  grammar 
of  the  language;  and  that  little  only  as  it  was 


48 


LIFE    OF    "SVILLIA^I  CAPERS. 


required  for  St.  John  and  Xenophon ;  and  when 
I  had  not  the  remotest  idea  of  the  change  of  form 
wrought  by  the  dialects  in  the  language  of  Homer ; 
and  the  class,  having  read  the  book  once,  and  some 
of  them  twice  through,  a  hundred  lines  were  given 
us  for  a  lesson;  and  when,  above  all,  I  was  so 
proud  of  heart  as  to  be  fully  determined  to  hide 
if  possible  my  ignorance,  and  ask  instruction  of 
no  one.  The  very  difficulties  in  my  way  were  hid- 
den from  me,  so  that  it  sometimes  cost  me  an  hour's 
diligent  search  to  find  the  indicative  present  of  a 
single  verb,  changed,  I  knew  not  how,  nor  from 
what,  by  some  unknown  dialect.  Pride  is  always 
folly,  and  in  this  instance  it  was  madness.  But  I 
reasoned  thus:  Though  I  cannot  get  the  presejQt 
lesson,  yet  the  getting  of  what  I  can  will  contri- 
bute something  towards  the  next,  and  that  towards 
the  next,  until  I  shall  have  got  able  to  accomplish 
all  that  is  required  of  me.  But  the  madness  of 
my  folly  was  the  obstinacy  with  which  I  exacted 
of  myself,  in  such  circumstances,  the  labor  of 
plodding  through  my  task,  if  at  all,  without  assist- 
ance. This  I  would  not  have,  because  I  could  not 
get  it  without  a  betrayal  of  my  ignorance.  My 
whole  time,  and  much  more  than  my  whole  time, 
was  therefore  devoted  to  study;  which  I  relaxed 
not  for  any  fatigue  from  the  hour  of  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning  to  eleven  at  night — allowing  my- 
self but  four  hours  in  bed,  and  not  a  moment  for 
any  recreation.  At  three  in  the  morning  I  sat 
down  to  Homer,  Schrevelius,  and  the  Greek  gram- 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


49 


mar,  till  prayers  at  six;  after  wliicli  came  the 
dreaded  recitation.  My  other  studies  employed 
me  till  five  P.  M.,  bating  only  meals  and  recita- 
tions. At  five  o'clock  prayers  and  supper  inter- 
rupted me  ;  and  then  till  eleven,  when  I  went  to 
bed,  I  resumed  the  heartless  task  of  Homer  and  his 
dialects.  Twenty  hours  out  of  t^^^enty-four  spent 
in  this  manner  soon  worked  mischief  to  my  nerves. 
The  little  time  I  was  in  bed,  I  could  not  sleep  for 
nightmare ;  I  grew  pale  and  tremulous,  had  in- 
cessant headache,  and  should  probabl}^  have  driven 
myself  to  death,  but  for  an  incident  which  brought 
my  great  and  good  friend,  Dr.  Maxcy,  to  my  rescue. 
I  told  him  all,  and  his  noble  nature  seemed  to  yearn 
over  me.  I  must  desist  from  study ;  return  home 
for  the  summer ;  (it  -was  then'  May,  1806  ;)  and  re- 
turning in  ISTovember,  join  the  class  which  he  at 
first  recommended  for  me.  I  felt  both  the  wisdom 
of  his  advice  and  the  goodness  which  dictated  it, 
and  acted  accordingly.  But  extreme  was  the  mor- 
tification I  experienced  in  having  to  abandon  the 
achievement  I  had  undertaken  of  equalling  my 
superiors,  and  give  up  the  struggle  for  a  standing 
in  the  class  of  which  Harper,  Evans,  Miller,  Keed, 
and  others  like  them,  were  members. 

I  purpose  in  these  recollections  to  give  you  what 
I  remember  of  myself  faithfully,  though  some 
things,  and  especially  at  this  period,  may  not  now 
have  my  approval.  It  was  early  summer  in  1806. 
I  was  at  home ;  at  the  place  called  Woodland,  late- 
ly purchased  for  a  residence,  on  the  Hills  above 


50 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


Statesburg.  And  interdicted  close  study,  I  was  to 
recover  strength  and  spirits  by  free  exercise  of  any 
kind.  And  a  scbeme  struck  me  for  improving  this 
time  towards  my  advancement  in  future  life.  Sum- 
ter District  then,  as  now,  was  divided  into  two  elec- 
tion districts,  Cleremont  and  Clarendon.  Clere- 
mont  was  mine :  of  which  the  population  for  the 
most  part  belonged  to  Salem  and  Black  river,  and 
were  at  that  period  averse  from  the  people  of  the 
Hills,  as  being  too  aristocratic.  At  Bradford's 
Springs,  I  would  have  been  on  the  stronger  side, 
but  our  present  residence  put  me  in  the  minority 
portion  of  the  district;  and  the  scheme  referred  to 
was  for  the  purpose  of  overcoming  this  disadvan- 
tage. For  already  I  was  looking  with  downright 
ambition  (perhaps  I  should  say  vanity)  to  enter 
the  Legislature  as  soon  as  I  should  be  of  age ;  and 
if  I  might  accomplish  this,  I  would  deem  it  an 
equivalent  for  being  retarded  in  my  progress 
through  college.  My  plan  was  this  :  There  was  a 
popular  academy  kept  at  that  time  on  Black  river 
by  a  brother  of  my  late  preceptor ;  and  while  I  had 
reason  to  believe  that  I  was  favorably  known  to 
him,  many  of  his  larger  pupils  had  become  ac- 
quainted with  me  during  my  visits  to  my  uncle, 
and  attending  church  in  that  quarter.  IlTow,  then, 
I  proposed  to  visit  this  academy,  and  to  make 
friends  of  those  youngsters,  and  of  their  friends 
through  them.  I  would  propose  instituting  a  de- 
bating society,  to  meet  once  a  month,  or  oftener, 
with  honorary  members  of  the  men  of  influence  in 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


51 


that  quarter ;  taking  care  to  provide  for  an  oration 
on  the  4th  of  July  by  one  of  the  members.  It  was 
successfally  managed.  An  election  to  the  presi- 
dency of  the  society  was  declined,  for  the  alleged 
reason  that  the  office  ought  to  be  held  in  connec- 
tion with  the  school,  and  I  was  rather  young  to  be 
a  president ;  but  more,  in  fact,  because  I  preferred 
figuring  as  a  debater,  and  deemed  it  politic  to  ap- 
pear deferential.  But  no  modesty  of  youth,  or 
deference  to  older  boys,  was  suffered  to  prevent  my 
acceptance  of  the  appointment  as  orator  for  the  4th 
of  July,  which  I  would  endeavor  to  sustain  to  the 
best  of  my  poor  abilities,  and  hoping  for  all  due 
allowance  for  my  youth.  I  know  not  how  long  the 
society  lasted ;  but  I  know  that  I  counted  that  4th 
of  July  for  a  day.  The  oration  was  long  enough, 
and  sufficiently  spiced  with  youthful  patriotism, 
the  Black  river  boys,  the  pride  of  the  country,  and 
all  that.  And  besides  having  the  whole  country 
around  to  hear  me,  there  was  a  great  dinner ;  and 
at  the  dinner  just  such  a  sort  of  toast  as  it  tickled 
my  vanity  to  hear. 

Another  story  of  very  different  import,  and  yet 
somewhat  connected  in  its  origin  with  the  preced- 
ing, belongs  to  this  summer  of  1806.  Towards  the 
latter  end  of  the  summer,  a  camp-meeting  was  held 
in  Rembert's  settlement,  where  the  people  were 
mostly  Methodists ;  and  my  uncle  and  family  at- 
tending it,  made  it  convenient  for  me  also  to  attend. 
Of  course  this  would  be  agreeable ;  for  although  I 
was  not  prepared  to  use  it  for  the  proper  spiritual 


52 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


purposes  of  such  a  meeting,  and  yet  had  too  high 
a  sense  of  propriety  to  go  to  such  a  place  for  the 
purpose  of  electioneering,  still,  as  my  youth  must 
protect  me  from  any  imputation  of  bad  motives,  it 
might  be  well  enough  to  go  just  as  a  Mend  among 
friends,  and  to  make  more  friends.  Of  this  camp- 
meeting  my  recollections  are  about  as  distinct  as 
of  most  I  have  attended  of  later  years.  The  num- 
ber of  people  occupying  tents  vras  much  greater 
than  it  had  been  at  two  previous  meetings  of  the 
same  kind,  in  1802  and  1803,  in  that  neighborhood ; 
both  of  which  I  had  attended  with  my  uncle's  fami- 
ly, and  at  which  wagons  and  awnings  made  of 
coverlets  and  blankets  were  mostly  relied  on,  in 
place  of  tents.  The  tents  too,  (of  this  meeting  in 
1806,)  though  much  smaller  and  less  commodious 
than  in  later  years,  were  larger  and  better  than  at 
the  former  meetings.  But  still,  at  the  tents  as  well 
as  at  the  wagons  of  the  camp,  there  was  very  little 
cooking  done,  but  every  one  fed  on  cold  provisions, 
or  at  least  cold  meats.  Compared  to  those  first 
two  camp-meetings,  this'  one  differed  also  in  the 
more  important  respects  of  management  and  the 
phases  of  the  work  of  God.  At  the  first  one, 
(1802,)  particularly,  (which  was  held  on  McGirt's 
branch,  below  the  point  where  the  Statesburg  and 
Darlington  road  crosses  it,)  I  recollect  little  that 
looked  like  management.  There  were  two  stands 
for  preaching,  at  a  distance  Of  about  two  hundred 
yards  apart ;  and  sometimes  there  was  preaching  at 
one,  sometimes  at  the  other,  and  sometimes  at  both 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


53 


Bimultaneously.  This  was  evidently  a  bad  arrange- 
ment ;  for  I  remember  seeing  the  people  running 
hastily  from  one  place  to  the  other,  as  some,  sudden 
gush  of  feeling  venting  itself  aloud,  and  perhaps 
with  strange  bodily  exercises,  called  their  attention 
off.  As  to  the  times  of  preaching,  I  think  there, 
were  not  any  stated  hours,  but  it  was  lef^  to  cir- 
cumstances ; '  sometimes  oftener,  sometimes  more 
seldom.  The  whole  camp  was  called  up,  by  blow- 
ing a  horn,  at  the  break  of  day;  before  sunrise  it 
was  blown  again ;  and  I  doubt  if  after  that  there 
were  a^ny  regular  hours  for  the  services  of  the 
meeting.  But  what  was  most  remarkable  both  at 
this  camp-meeting  and  the  following  one,  a  year 
afterwards,  (1803,)  as  distinguishing  them  from  the 
present  meeting  of  1806,  and  much  more  from,  later 
camp-meetings,  was  the  strange  and  unaccountable 
bodily  exercises  which  prevailed  there.  In  some 
instances,  persons  who  were  not  before  known  to 
be  at  all  religious,  or  under  any  particular  concern 
about  it,  would  suddenly  fall  to  the  ground,  and 
become  strangely  convulsed  with  what  was  called 
the  jerks;  the  head  and  neck,  and  sometimes  the 
body  also,  moving  backwards  and  forwards  with 
spasmodi-c  violence,  and  so  rapidly  that  the  plaited 
hair  of  a  woman's  head  migbt  be  heard  to  crack. 
This  exercise  was  not  peculiar  to  feeble  persons, 
nor  to  either  sex,  but,  on  the  contrary,  was  most 
frequent  to  the  strong  and  athletic,  whether  man 
or  woman.    I  never  knew  it  among  children,  nor 


54  LIFE    or    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

very  old  persons.  In  other  cases,  persons  falling 
down  would  appear  senseless,  and  almost  lifeless, 
for  hours  together;  lying  motionless  at  full  length 
on  the  ground,  and  almost  as  pale  as  corpses.  And 
then  there  was  the  jumping  exercise,  which  some- 
times approximated  dancing;  in  which  several 
persons^ might  be  seen  standing  perfectly  erect,  and 
springing  upward  without  seeming  to  bend  a  joint 
of  their  bodies.  Such  exercises  were  scarcely,  if  at 
all,  present  among  the  same  people  at  the  camp- 
meeting  of  1806.  And  yet  this  camp-meeting  was 
not  less  remarkable  than  the  former  ones,  and  very 
much  more  so  than  any  I  have  attended  in  later 
years,  for  the  suddenness  with  which  sinners  of 
every  description  were  awakened,  and  the  over- 
whelming force  of  their  convictions ;  bearing  them 
instantly  down  to  their  knees,  if  not  to  the  ground, 
crying  for  mercy.  At  this  meeting  I  became  clear- 
ly convinced  that  there  was  an  actual,  veritable 
power  of  God's  grace  in  persons  then  before  me, 
and  who  were  known  to  me,  by  which  they  were 
brought  to  repentance  and  a  new  life ;  and  that 
with  respect  to  the  latter,  (a  state  of  regeneration 
and  grace,)  the  evidence  of  their  possessing  it  was 
as  full  and  satisfactory  as  it  was  that  they  had  been 
brought  to  feel  the  guilt  and  condemnation  of  their 
sins.  I  did  not  fall  at  any  time,  as  I  saw  others  do  ; 
but  with  the  conviction  clear  to  my  apprehension 
as  to  what  was  the  true  character  of  the  work  be- 
fore me,  that  it  was  of  God,  while  I  feared  greatly, 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  55 

I  could  not  but  desire  that  I  miglit  become  a  par- 
taker of  the  benefit.  Still  I  kept  myself  aloof,  I 
knew  not  why. 

The  meeting  over,  I  stopped  for  a  day  or  two  at 
my  uncle's.  The  day  that  I  left  it,  as  I  dwelt  on 
its  scenes,  with  the  sounds  belonging  to  those  scenes 
still  lingering  on  my  ear,  and  my  spirit  confidently 
approving,  I  felt  a  lively  satisfaction  in  the  contem- 
plation of  what  appeared"  to  me  to  be  the  greatest 
possible  discovery,  which  was,  that  a  sinner  could 
be  forgiven  his  sins ;  could  be  reconciled  to  God ; 
could  have  peace  with  God,  witnessed  by  the  Holy 
Spirit,  through  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Yet 
I  was  conscious  of  no  painful  conviction  of  sin  ;  no 
working  of  a  godly  sorrow ;  no  extraordinary  sense 
of  guilt;  no  action  of  repentance.  Indeed,  my  feel- 
ings seemed  absorbed  in  this  sense  of  satisfaction 
that  beyond  all  doubt  I  had  learned  so  great  a  les- 
son. For  though  I  had  not  (experienced  it  in  my 
own  soul,  I  was  satisfied  of  the  verity  of  it  by  the 
consent  of  my  consciousness  as  to  what  I  had  wit- 
nessed in  others ;  something  which  I  myself  had 
also  felt  serving  to  demonstrate  the  truth  of  the 
whole,  as  piece  and  part  of  that  whole.  But  as  I 
was  going  to  bed  that  night,  I  found  myself  strong- 
ly arrested  with  the  thought  of  my  responsibility  for 
the  use  I  should  make  of  the  light  afiforded  me. 
Ought  I  not  instantly  to  pray?  I  was  a  sinner,  and 
repentance  and  forgiveness  of  sins  was  ofifered 
me.  Must  it  not  turn  fearfully  to  my  condemnation 
if  I  did  not  forthwith  seek  it  ?   I  fell  on  my  knees 


56 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


and  continued  all  night  in  prayer  to  God.  Returning 
home,  I  occupied  myself,  for  several  weeks,  with  noth- 
ing else  but  devotion.  My  whole  time  was  given  to 
reading  the  Scriptures,  meditation,  and  prayer.  And 
yet  while  I  never  distrusted  the  certainty  of  the 
great  truths  just  stated,  and  although  my  purpose 
to  pursue  after  them,knew  no  abatement,  there  was 
no  one  point  of  time  at  which  I  was  enabled  to  re- 
alize their  fulfilment  in  my  own.  case,  so  as  to  be 
assured  that  I  myself  had  passed  from  death  to  life 
by  the  blood  of  Jesus.  I  still  felt,  at  the  best,  that 
I  was  but  a  servant,  not  a  son.  Thus  it  was  with 
me  when,  on  one  of  my  fast-days,  having  taken  my 
Bible  with  me  into  the  woods  with  a  purpose  of 
spending  the  day  there  in  devotion,  and  having 
continued  a  long  time  on  my  knees,  I  became  so 
much  exhausted  as  to  fall  asleep.  I  cannot  describe 
— it  can  scarcely  be  imagined — in  what  terror  I 
awoke.  Asleep  at  prayer !  Fasting  and  praying 
with  the  Bible  open  before  me,  and  asleep  !  I  seemed 
to  myself  a  monster  of  profanity,  who  had  mocked 
God  to  his  face,  and  must  surely  have  committed 
the  unpardonable  sin.  "WTiat  was  I  to  do  ?  And 
there  appeared  nothing,  nothing  !  And  I  was  ready 
to  condemn  myself  as  a  trifler  from  the  beginning, 
whose  want  of  reverence  had  thus  betrayed  itself  in 
what  seemed  to  be  the  most  presumptuous  form  of 
sinning.  Alas  for  me,  a  darkness  as  of  death 
shrouded  my  spirit ;  and  how  I  might  penetrate  it, 
I  knew  not. 

The  Hills  in  the  neighborhood  of  Statesburg  fur- 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


5T 


nish  beautifal  seats  for  residence ;  and  in  my  youth, 
and  more  recently,  (if  not  at  the  present  time,)  there 
was  no  part  of  South  Carolina  more  remarkable 
than  that  neighborhood  for  elegance  and  fashion. 
At  the  time  of  our  date,  (1806,)  we  had  within  a 
compass  of  a  few  miles,  Judge  Waties,  the  May- 
rants,  General  and  Colonel  Sumter,  Mr.  (afterwards 
J udge)  Richardson,  Dr.  Brownfield,  and  others,  who 
were  permanent  residents,  besides  still  others  of  the 
elite  of  the  low  country,  who  passed  their  summers 
there.  Balls  were  frequent;  and  the  season  for 
them  was  just  commencing  at  the  time  of  the  un- 
happy incident  just  mentioned.  And  as  if  the 
malice  and  subtlety  of  my  mortal  foe  had  been  con- 
centrated on  that  fatal  hour,  there  met  me,  as  I 
returned  to  the  house  from  that  melancholy  scene 
of  the  wood,  a  well-known  card,  "  To  tea,  and  spend 
THE  EVENING."  It  was  an  invitation  to  a  ball.  The 
bare  coincidence  of  such  an  invitation  at  such  a 
moment  seemed  to  tell  me  that  I  was  doomed,  and 
there  was  nothing  better  left  for  me.  But  could  I 
so  suddenly  give  up  all  hope  of  the  better  things 
I  had  been  seeking  ?  Was  it  impossible  for  me  to 
become  a  spiritual  Christian  ?  And  was  the  world 
my  only  heritage ;  and  must  I  return  to  it  in  de- 
spair of  ever  inheriting  the  better  world  above  ? 
"What  an  hour  was  tjiat !  First,  there  was  the  incu- 
bus of  an  undefined  condemnation  for  the  monstros- 
ity of*  falling  asleep  on  my  knees.  Then,  I  was 
not  a  Methodist ;  and  now,  probably,  never  could 
be.    My  religious  feelings  had  been  known  to  no 


58 


LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


one  out  of  my  immediate  family ;  and  in  the  pre- 
sent state  of  things  had  better  not  become  known, 
as  I  could  not  hope  to  be  a  Christian.  True,  I  could 
no  longer  find  any  enjoyment  in  the  pleasures  of 
the  gay  world ;  but  situated  as  I  was,  it  would  be 
useless  to  give  offence,  and  break  with  my  former 
associates. 

Surely  no  one  ever  went  to  meet  associates  in  a 
ballroom  in  so  sad  a  mood.  I  was  going  to  a  ball 
as  to  an  antechamber  of  the  pit  below ;  and  yet  I 
was  going.  I  felt  a  loathing  of  it,  as  of  a  cup 
which  had  intoxicated  me  in  time  past,  but  which 
w^as  now  presented  with  its  wine  turned  into  gall, 
and  yet  I  was  going  to  taste  of  that  loathsome  cup. 
On  the  way  I  would  have  turned  back  and  gone 
home ;  but  no,  the  invitation  had  been  accepted, 
and  must  be  complied  with.  If  I  did  not  go,  what 
should  I  answer  when  I  might  be  asked  for  the 
reason  of  it?  And  might  it  not  even  serve  as  a 
rebuke  of  dancing  for  me  to  go  and  then  decline 
dancing,  of  which  I  had  been  known  to  be  exceed- 
ing fond  ?  But  enough  of  this  unpleasant  story. 
I  went.  And  having  gone,  I  danced.  The  hour 
was  late  when  I  got  home  and  to  bed — to  bed 
without  prayer !  But  the  flurry  of  my  spirits  and 
bodily  fatigue,  after  such  a  day  and  so  much  of 
such  a  night,  made  it  easier  for  me  to  go  to  bed 
without  prayer  than  I  was  to  find  it  in  the  morning 
to  go  away  from  my  bed  without  prayer.  Then  I 
was  calm  and  recollected ;  and  may  God  save  you 
from  ever  suffering  any  thing  like  the  sinking  of 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


59 


heart,  and  that  hopelessness  with  which,  that  morn- 
ing, I  left  that  bedside  without  daring  so  much  a& 
to  bow  my  knees.  I  felt  as  one  wandering  along 
some  dark  labyrinthian  way,  who  had  been  given 
a  light  and  had  extinguished  it.  First,  the  scene 
of  the  wood  the  day  before,  and  then  the  ball  at 
night,  and  my  light  was  out.  'No  mitigating  cir- 
cumstances could  avail  to  comfort  me,  and  I  gave 
up  all  for  lost. 

But  there  was  one  thing  which  I  could  not  be 
tempted  to  give  up.  It  was  graven  as  with  the 
point  of  a  diamond  on  the  tablet  of  my  heart,  and 
planted  as  with  the  finger  of  God  deep  and  abiding 
in  the  consciousness  of  my  nature.  I  would  never 
give  up  the  recollection  of  the  past  few  weeks. 
And  that  recollection,  mournful  as  it  was,  proved 
invaluable  to  me.  It  fixed  and  riveted  in  my 
mind  a  conviction  of  the  truth  of  the  gospel  and 
spiritual  religion  so  firmly,  that  no  plausibility  of 
infidel  reasoning  could  ever  afterwards  shake  it. 
And  when,  (as  you  shall  see,)  after  so  long  a  time, 
the  phantasm  of  the  unpardonable  iniquity  of  the 
incident  just  recited  had  been  dispelled,  and  I  w^as 
again  to  be  found  calling  upon  God,  no  temptation 
ever  prevailed  to  beat  me  off  from  the  sinner's 
only  hope,  the  cross  of  Christ  and  prayer. 

In  the  winter  I  returned  to  college,  fully  equal 
to  my  studies  as  they  then  were,  and  in  no  great 
danger  of  excessive  diligence.  Still,  I  had  a  pride 
of  associating  with  those  whom  I  had  so  vainly 
striven  to  overtake,  and  to  rank  above  my  years  in 


60  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

the  society  hall  if  I  might  not  in  the  class-room. 
Among  the  seniors  of  that  year  (1807)  were  Wil- 
liam T.  Brantly,  the  late  lamented  President  of  the 
college  at  Charleston,  John  Murphy,  late  Governor 
of  the  State  of  Alabama,  and  James  Gregg,  who 
has  'been  for  many  years  an  honor  to  the  bar  of 
South  Carolina,  and  one  of  her  ablest  senators. 
Of  the  juniors  I  have  already  mentioned  William 
Harper,  since  Chancellor  and  a  senator  of  the 
United  States,  Josiah  J.  Evans,  one  of  the  judges 
of  South  Carolina,  Stephen  D.  Miller,  late  Governor 
of  that  State,  and  others.  To  my  own  class,  as  it 
now  was,  belonged  William,  J.  Grayson,  since  col- 
lector of  the  port  of  Charleston,  Col.  Wade  Hamp- 
ton, and  others,  who,  if  not  as  eminently  distin- 
guished in  after-life,  were  nevertheless  worthy. 

Mr.  Brantly  was  already  a  preacher,  and  Mr. 
Murphy  and  Mr.  Gregg  were  patterns  of  pure 
morals  and  gentlemanly  bearing.  To  these  gentle- 
men I  owed  the  kindest  obligations,  and  it  was 
probably  owing,  in  a  great  measure,  to  their  influ- 
ence over  me,  that  my  indisoretions  this  year,  what- 
ever they  may  have  been,  partook  not  of  the  na- 
ture of  gross  immorality.  But  there  was  another 
influence  which  kept  me,  without  the  intervention 
of  means  of  any  kind,  from  a  still  more  dangerous 
exposure.  This  exposure  was  the  prevalence  of 
Deism,  against  which  I  carried  in  myself  an  evi- 
dence too  strong  and  conclusive  to  admit  for  a 
moment  its  half-reasoning  unbelief.  I  had  proved 
Christianity  to  be  true  in  a  way  that  Deism  could 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


61 


not  reach;  and  as  well  miglit  it  have  been  under- 
taken to  reason  away  from  me  my  consciousness  of 
being,  as,  my  conviction  of  its  truth.  This  might 
be  called  (as  it  often  was  called)  superstition,  in- 
fatuation, or  what  not,  but  it  made  no  ditference  to 
^  me,  my  consciousness  was  still  victq.r,  and  I  gloried 
in  the  truth  of  Christianity.  "Gentlemen,"  I 
would  say,  (when  pressed  to  read  Tom  Paine,  or 
HumCj  or , any  other  such  author,)  "gentlemen,  I 
am  as  you  are ;  I  am  not  a  Christian,  but  a  sinnQr ; 
but  sinner  as  I  am,  I  dare  not  seek  to  evade  respon- 
sibility by  denying,  T^hat  I  know  to  be  truth,  I 
know  in  myself  that  I  am  a  sinner,  and  I  know  in 
the  same  manner  that  the  Bible  is  the  word  of  God, 
and  Jesus  Christ  is  his  Son.  Call  not  him  by  vile 
epithets  whom  I  know  to  be  the  Son  of  God  as 
certainly  as  I  know  that  the  light  shines  or  the 
wind  blows.  Unbelief  may  make  us  worse,  but 
can  make  us  no  better."  But  I  was  a  paradox  to 
myself,  i^'aturally  gay  and  vivacious,  I  engaged 
freely  in  the  pastimes  of  the  hours  for  recreation ; 
and  in  company  with  those  of  like  dispositions 
seemed  as  happy  as  the  rest.  But  behind  all  this 
there  slumbered  a  feeling  of  remorse,  which  would 
sometimes  be  aroused  into  a  loathing  of  myself, 
and  extreme  sadness^ — a  secret  wound,  hidden  from 
the  light  of  day,  which  the  solitude  of  night  re- 
vealed as  a  running  sore.  Yes,  I  might  be  merry, 
in  the  day,  when  the  night  was  to  be  dark  with 
self-reproach.  Alas,  what  is  light  without  love? 
This  was  the  consciousness  which  made  me  arguo 


62 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


for  the  Christian  faith,  while  it  had  no  power  to 
make  me  a  Christian.  It  seemed  impossible  for 
me  to  maintain  the  watchfulness  proper  to  a  serious 
self-restraint  when  all  was  gay  about  me;  and 
equally  so  for  me  to  pass  the  night  without  calling 
paiufully  to  mind  my  sinful  wanderings  from  God. 
And  yet  I  was  restrained  from  grosser  immorali- 
ties. Why  not  more,  may  be  told  in  a  word:  I  did 
not  pray.  Solitude  at  night  shut. me  up  to  the  con- 
templation of  a  scene  in  which  the  incidents  of  the 
previous  summer  seemed  pencilled  before  me :  how 
I  had  had  the  truth  of  spiritual  religion  demon- 
strated to  me ;  had  been  graciously  drawn  to  seek 
it ;  and  had  (as  still  it  appeared  to  me)  profanely 
cast  it  all  away.  But  it  was  that  last  spectacle  of 
the  scene  which  held  me  back  as  by  a  spell  from 
prayer,  though  I  would  have  given  any  thing  to  feel 
myself  at  liberty  to  pray.  And  so  fully  had  this 
spectral  idea  got  possession  of  my  mind,  that  I  was 
shut  out  from  lyrayer,  that  I  seemed  incapable  of  so 
much  as  even  to  call  it  in  question. 

You  will  wonder,  perhaps,  at  my  dwelling  so 
long  on  this  unwelcome  theme,  but  I  cannot  dis- 
miss it  hastily,  for  I  deem  it  to  have  been  of  no 
little  consequence.  I  mean  not  that  it  was  benefi- 
cial for  me  to  have  fallen  asleep  at  prayer,  nor  to 
have  fallen  under  the  tormenting  misconceptions 
\)f  the  character  of  that  act,  which  prevented  me 
from  attempting  to  pray  afterwards,  and  in  despair 
of  becoming  a  Christian  induced  my  return  to 
former  associations.    And  much  less  do  I  mean 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


63 


fchat  it  was  well  for  me  to  have  gone  to  the  ball 
that  night,  and  to  continue  in  habits  of  pleasurable 
amusement,  and  to  live  after  the  gay  and  giddy 
manner  that  I  did,  against  my  conscience,  awak- 
ened as  it  had  been  to  the  discovery  of  spiritual 
truth.  Nothing  of  the  sort.  But  I  mean  that' 
my  wretchedness  taught  me  understanding;  and 
although  I  had  not  the  knowledge  which  should 
have  inspired  courage  to  pray,  I  saw  an  infinite  ^ 
value  in  the  privilege  of  access  to  God  through  the 
great  Mediator ;  and  by  as  much  as  I  was  hopeless  ' 
of  any  good  without  it,  and  felt  that  the  pleasures 
of  sin  were  but  apples  of  Sodom,  by  so  much  was 
I  still  held  to  the  belief  of  spiritual  truth  as  demon-  , 
strated  in  my  present  consciousness  no  less  than  in' 
my  former  better  experience.  The  present  com- 
pared to  the  past  involved  a  sense  of  destitution, 
not  only  implying  a  consciousness  of  want,  but 
that  the  thing  wanted  had  been  possessed.  A 
smoking  wick  compared  to  the  lighted  candle 
might  be  its  emblem.  And  the  thing  wanted  was 
that  influence  of  the  all-quickening  Spirit  which' 
should  renew  the  flame.  To  be  a  sinner  under 
condemnation  for  his  sins, ^but  calling  upon  God  in 
expectation  of  forgiveness  through  the  blood  of 
the  cross,  seemed  a  hopeful  and  desirable  condition 
in  comparison  to  mine,  in  which  the  great  pain  and 
plague  was  that  I  feared  to  pray,  deeming  it  pre- 
sumptuous for  me  to  do  so,  and  therefore  not  at- 
tempting it.  '  Such  a  hag  may  a  mistaken  con- 
science be. 


64 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


But  why  did  I  not  correct  my  error  "by  the  Scrip- 
tures ?  Ah,  why  did  I  not  !  Why,  unhappily,  be- 
cause, having  left  off  to  pray,  I  had  left  off  also  the 
reading  of  the  Scriptures,  as  not  being  likely  to 
profit  me  without  prayer;  whereas,  if  I  had 
searched  th-e  Scriptures  with  proper  care,  it  would 
probably  have  been  blessed  both  to  the  correction 
of  my  error,  and  my  recovery  from  this  snare  of 
the  devil.  It  was  not  long  before  I  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  I  could  not  get  better  as  things 
were ;  and  that  the  only  hope  for  me  was  in  some 
such  extraordinary  impulse  of  the  Holy  Spirit  as 
that  which  moved  me  so  mightily  on  the  evening 
after  the  camp-meeting;  which  only  could  assure 
me  that  I  might  pray  with  acceptance,  and,  with 
the  encouragement  to  pray,  enable  me  to  live  as 
a  Christian  ought ;  and  that  until  I  should  be 
thus  favored,  if  ever,  it  was  needless  for  me  to 
afflict  myself  for  what  I  could  not  help ;  but  that 
I  would  keep  myself  from  any  thing  grossly  im- 
moral, and  maintain  steadfastly  my  belief  in  the 
truth  of  Christianity,  if  haply  the  needful  visita- 
tion might  be  afforded  me :  anottfer  hurtful  error. 
With  regard  to  matters  of  the  college,  things  went 
with  me  in  the  usual  way,  and  I  went  with  them 
after  the  same  manner.  There  was  nothing  worthy 
of  remark.  The  vacation  was  spent  at  home ; 
(Woodland,  on  the  Hills,  in  Sumter  District ;)  and 
of  this  also  I  have  little  to  say.  Its  incidents  were 
not  remarkable.  Usually  my  mornings  were  occu- 
pied with  some  sort  of  reading,  and  my  evenings 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


65 


with  the  ladies ;  of  whom  there  were  not  a  few  iu 
our  neighborhood,  nor  a  few  belles  among  them. 
Once  or  twice  a  week  I  spent  a  day  with  my 
brother  Gabriel  at  the  plantation ; .but  I  was  not 
fond  of  hunting  deer  or  of  fishing ;  and  a  week  at  a 
time  might  be  spent  on  a  visit  to  my  excellent 
brother  and  sister  Guerry,  and  my  much-loved 
uncle,  who  still  seemed  a  sort  of  second  father  to 
me.  But  there  was  one  circumstance  which  per- 
haps T  should  advert  to,  as  it  had  some  influence 
subsequently  on  my  conduct.  My  worthy  brother- 
in-law  was  very  sick,  and  was  so  for  a  long  time, 
so  that  his  life  was  thought  to  be  in  danger ;  and 
this  sickness  was  made  the  means  of  his  awaken- 
ing and  conversion.  I  was  much  with  him  to- 
wards the  latter  part  of  the  vacation ;  and  if  I 
could  have  had  any  misgivings  before  as  to  the 
truth  of  a  spiritual  religion,  they  must  have  been 
dissipated  by  what  I  saw  in  him.  I  said  his  sick- 
ness was  the  means  of  his  conversion,  not  meaning 
that  he  was  already  converted  in  an  evangelical 
sense  of  that  word,  but  that  he  was  awakened,  and 
it  led  to  his  conversion.  He  conversed  freely  with 
me,  as  I  also  did  with  him ;  and  in  one  of  these 
conversations,  speaking  of  my  feelings  a  year  be- 
foi:e,  he  expressed  the  opinion  that  if  I  had  joined 
the  Church  I  would  not  have  suffered  the  loss 
which  I  was  then  deploring.  I  had  long  been 
of  the  same  opinion,  and  expressed,  in  reply  to  what 
he  said,  a  settled  purpose  to  do  so  whenever  I 
should  feel  again  as  I  had  then  felt  the  quickening 
3 


66 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


power  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  I  mention  this  here, 
as  I  shall  have  occasion  to  advert  to  it  hereafter. 

iTotwithstanding  this  year  (1807)  was  barren  of 
incidents  of  any  note,  its  secret  history  was  strongly 
influential  on  my  future  course  of  life.  It  began, 
as  the  last  had  closed,  with  intense  agitation :  the 
buoyancy  of  young  life  bearing  me  away  with  my 
associates  to  an  extreme  of  levity  by  day,  and  my 
troubled  conscience  lashing  me  as  with  whips  of 
fire  by  night.  It  had  passed  to  its  seventh  month, 
with  only  the  change  of  a  sort  of  compromise  with 
conscience ;  by  which  I  should  allow  myself  just 
any  thiug  that  circumstances  made  convenient, 
short  ■  of  gross  immorality,  and  a  disbelief  of  the 
Scriptures  and  spiritual  religion ;  and  I  was,  more- 
over, to  be  ever  forward  to  avow  and  defend  the 
truth  of  God's  word;  which  last  item  in  the  truce 
with  conscience  cost  me  some  little  trouble.  But 
during  the  vacation,  I  was  not  only  withdrawn 
from  the  strife  of  tongues,  but  also  from  the 
excitement  of  college  recreations.  My  recreations 
now  were  of  a  different  sort.  Indeed,  I  took  none, 
and  desired  none,  except  the  evenings  in  female 
society.  This  was  not  exciting,  but  soothing ;  not 
a  whirligig  of  giddy  passions,  but  a  refining, 
elevating  entertainment.  Such,  out  of  the  ball- 
■^oom,  I  had  always  found  female  society  to  be ; 
for,  thank  God,  I  never  associated  with  any  whom 
I  did  not  honor  as  ladies  indeed.  In  a  word,  then, 
my  mind  was  becoming  more  settled— less  frivol- 
ous and  less  desponding;  and  though  I  had  no 


AUTOBIOQRAPIIY. 


6T 


courage  to  betake  myself  to  prayer  or  avow  a  re- 
ligious life,  the  hoped-for  visitation  which  should 
give  me  confidence  began  to  be  looked  to  not  only 
as  desirable  but  very  possible ;  and  the  resolution 
was  fully  formed  which  should  make  such  a  visita- 
tion the  occasion  of  an  instant  public  avowal  on  my 
part,  by  joining  the  Church. 

In  this  state  of  mind  my  return  to  college  in 
October  was  not  anticipated  with  pleasure,  but 
rather  as  an  undesirable  necessity.  There  was  an- 
other consideration  also  which  began  to  gain  some 
importance  with  me.  My  profession  was  fixed  for 
the  law ;  and  at  that  time  the  statute  required  three 
years'  study  with  a  lawyer,  in  order  to  admission  at 
the  bar.  I  was  ambitious  of  attaining  to  this  posi- 
tion at  the  earliest  allowable  age ;  and  the  securing 
of  it  would  not  admit  of  my  continuing  in  college 
,to  the  time  of  graduation.  Perhaps  it  was  unfor- 
tunate for  me  that,  with  a  sanguine  temperament 
which  might  incline  me  to  overreach  myself  in  any 
circumstances,  I  had  grown  up  rapidly  in  the 
last  five  years,  and  was  already  at  my  full  height, 
five  feet  eight  and  a  half  inches.  E"or  can  I  deny 
that  I  was  ambitious,  and  that  my  vanity  was  at 
least  equal  to  my  understanding.  I  had  frequent 
conversations  with  my  father  as  to  the  propriety 
of  giving  up  my  text-books  at  college  in  favor  of 
Blackstone ;  in  which  I  undervalued  the  studies  of 
the  senior  year,  as  being  mainly  a  review  of  the 
preceding,  and  was  inclined  to  the  opinion  that 
after  the  middle  of  my  next  term,  I  had  better 


68 


LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


commence  the  study  of  law.  My  father  was  re- 
luctant, and  preferred  that  I  should  graduate,  but 
waived  a  decision  for  the  present  time. 

I  should  deem  it  most  unfortunate  that  I  had 
gotten  this  kink  into  my  head  about  leaving  col- 
lege and  commencing  the  study  of  law,  were  it 
not  for  the  state  of  my  mind  with  respect  to 
religion.  In  view  only  of  the  present  life  and  dis- 
tinction at  the  bar,  it  was  a  great  error ;  for  so  far 
from  its  being  true  that  any  portion  of  a  college 
course  might  be  dispensed  with  by  one  seeking  a 
profession,  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  this  so  fre- 
quent haste  of  the  boys  to  become  men  before  the 
time,  should  find  the  allowance  which  it  does  in 
the  present  too  brief  course  of  studies,  which  had 
better  be  extended.  But  in  view  of  the  whole  case 
from  the  present  point  of  time,  with  the  lights  of 
experience  to  guide  me,  I  believe  that  this  also 
was  of  God.  My  situation  in  college  was,  to  say 
the  least,  very  trying,  and  I  felt  it  to  be  so.  That 
compromise  still  appeared  to  be  the  best  in  my 
power  there;  and  I  was  any  thing  but  what  I 
would  choose  to  be  in  the  midst  of  my  associates, 
not  a  few  of  whom  mocked  at  religion  as  a  super- 
stition, though  in  other  respects  they  were  high- 
minded,  estimable  young  m-en.  It  was  a  hazardous 
experiment  to  be  intimate  with  them  in  all  their 
pastimes,  on  the  principle  of  maintaining  that 
one  might  be  as  gay  and  believe  the  Bible  as  he 
could  be  in  the  disbelief  of  it ;  and  my  nature  was 
social,  to  a  fault. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


69 


But  the  vacation  over,  I  returned  to  college,  and 
resumed  my  studies  with  considerable  spirit ;  which 
was  not  diminished  hy  the  growing  purpose  I  in- 
dulged of  making  that  my  last  term.  In  other 
respects,  I  know  not  that  any  thing  transpired 
worthy  of  remark. 

Early  the  next  year,  (1808,)  my  father  having 
yielded  his  consent,  I  took  a  final  leave  of  the 
cpllege,  and  entered  myself  a  student  at  law  in  the 
office  of  that  estimable  man  and  eminent  jurist, 
Mr.  John  S.  Eichardson ;  afterwards,  for  a  long 
course  of  years,  a  judge  of  the  courts  of  law  of 
South  Carolina.  Mr.  Richardson's  office  was  in 
Statesburg;  and  it  was  agreed  that  my  studies 
should  be  pursued  for  the  most  part  at  home ;  only 
arranging  for  so  much  time  to  be  spent  in  the  office 
as  might  be  deemed  desirable  from  time  to  time. 
"Woodland  was  now  home,  emphatically,  as  I  lived 
there ;  but  I  was  no  longer  a  child.  A  study  was 
built  for  me  at  a  pleasant  spot,  and  I  set  zealously 
at  work  to  make  myself  a  lawyer.  A  horse  was 
appropriated  to  my  use,  though  I  seldom  rode  ex- 
cept to  the  office,  to  church  on  Sundays,  and  occa- 
sionally to  spend  an  evening  with  the  ladies,  which 
I  was  always  fond  to  do.  And  now  that  phantom, 
the  honor  that  cometh  of  man  only,  appeared  in 
glory,  as  a  thing  to  be  worshipped,  the  chief  idol 
of  all,  whose  service  should  be  honored  with  a  high 
reward.  What  a  mistake !  And  how  common  it 
is  with  other  ardent  young  men,  who  no  more  sus- 
pect it  than  I  myself  did.    Those  succeed  in  the 


70 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


race  for  distinction  who  are  in  love  with  the  means 
of  success — the  mastery  of  their  profession ;  and 
not  those  who,  too  eager  of  the  goal,  have  not 
patience  to  approach  it  step  by  step.  I  was  not, 
after  all,  in  love  with  the  law,  but  enamored  only 
of  the  charms  of  a  fancied  glorification  to  be 
obtained  as  a  lawyer.  The  law  itself  was  mere 
labor — dry,  plodding  study ;  and  that  I  did  not  love 
it  for  its  own  sake,  an  anecdote  of  the  early 
summer  will  suffice  to  show.  General  Sumter  had 
just  returned  home  from  Congress,  when  I  was  one 
day  surprised  by  an  invitation  to  dine  with  him ; 
with  the  words  written  at  the  bottom  of  the  note, 
"]S"one  but  gentlemen  are  invited."  Arriving  at 
his  mansion,  I  found  the  interpretation  of  these 
enigmatic  words,  in  the  fact  that  the  company  con- 
sisted of  some  twenty  bachelors,  of  whom  I  was 
the  youngest.  And  as  soon  as  the  cloth  was  re- 
moved, and  Mrs.  Sumter  had  withdrawn,  the  object 
of  this  unusual  collection  of  young  men  to  dine 
with  the  old  veteran  was  made  known  in  a  long 
address,  in  which  he  told  us  all  about  our  difficul- 
ties with  England;  the  certainty  of  a  war,  and 
of  its  being  a  long  one ;  the  occasion  it  must  fur- 
nish for  glorious  deeds  and  immortal  honor ;  the 
great  advantages  for  promotion  to  those  who  took 
office  in  that  first  enlistment  which  Congress  had 
ordered ;  and  that  he  was  authorized  by  the  Pre- 
sident to  promise  commissions  to  any  of  us  then 
present ;  whose  fortunes  must  be  made  by  accept- 
ing them.    And  w^hat  had  become  of  my  love  of 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


7J 


the  law  when  we  rose  from  that  table  ?  My  idol 
was  transferred  to  another  temple,  and  not  as  a 
lawyer,  but  a  chivalrous  soldier,  rising  rapidly  to 
eminence  and  fame,  was  I  to  seek  my  destiny. 
But  how  were  my  young,  wings  clipped,  and  my 
fancied  certainty  of  a  noble  elevation  by  deeds  to 
deserve  it  brought  to  the  ground !  My  father 
would  not  hear  to  it;  and  when  I  expressed  sur- 
prise, and  alluded  to  his  own  services  in  the  Re- 
volutionary war  as  justifying  the  step  I  proposed, 
he  really  seemed  almost  angry.  "What !"  said  he, 
*'did  I  ever  fight  for  myself?  Was  it  not  for  the 
liberties  of  my  country  ?  But  you  would  fight  for 
pay,  and  to  make  yourself  a  name.  Our  liberties 
are  not  in  danger ;  and  the  government  is  strong 
enough  to  take  care  of  itself."  And  so  I  had 
to  smooth  down  my  feathers,  and  return  to  Black- 
stone. 

Early  in  J uly  of  this  year  (1808)  there  was  another 
camp-meeting  in  Rembert's  settlement.  But  I  did 
not  attend  it,  having  an  engagement  of  business 
for  my  father  in  Georgetown  at  the  time  of  its 
being  held.  My  brother-in-law,  Major  Guerry,  and 
my  sister  attended  it,  and  with  the  happiest  conse- 
quences. I  have  mentioned  his  illness  the  previous 
autumn,  and  that  it  had  been  blessed  to  the  awaken- 
ing of  both  of  them  to  a  deep  concern  for  their 
salvation.  They  had  now  joined  the  Church,  and. 
at  this  camp-meeting  were  converted.  On  my  re- 
turn home  it  affected  me  to  hear  it;  and  I  was 
meditating  a  visit  to  them,  when  they  came  to  see 


72 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPEKS. 


US.  I  used  to  admire  my  brother-in-law  for  a  bear- 
ing of  personal  dignity  which  distinguished  him 
above  other  well-bred  men  of  my  acquaintance, 
and  which,  together  with  his  being  a  very  large 
man,  rendered  his  presence  peculiarly  imposing. 
He  was  unexceptionably  kind  and  amiable,  but  his 
look  wotild  inspire  reverence  more  than  love ;  it 
was  rather  austere  than  gentle.  So  I  had  been 
accustomed  to  see  him.  But  there  now  stood 
before  me  that  same  noble  form,  with  a  countenance 
as  soft  as  love  itself,  and  a  bearing  that  might  seem 
the  very  expression  of  meekness.  Several  times 
during  the  afternoon  and  early  evening  I  saw  a  tear 
in  the  eye  which  I  had  not  thought  capable  of  a 
tear,  and  a  suffusion  on  the  cheek  which  might  not 
have  been  suspected  of  any  thing  so  tender.  As 
to  my  sister,  her  dear  bright  eyes  would  laugh  in 
tears,  and  she  seemed  the  happiest  of  mortals. 
And  for  myself,  I  had  in  me  the  interpretation  of 
it  all.  Here  was  the  religion  of  the  Spirit  of  grace, 
which  I  had  contemplated  before  in  faces  as  truth- 
ful, but  not  so  dear  to  me  as  those  of  the  present 
witnesses.  How  poor  might  the  world  be  to  pur- 
chase it !  What  should  the  world  be  to  mortal 
man  in  comparison  to  it  ?  This  it  was  which  more 
than  twenty  months  before  I  had  been  so  earnestly 
seeking,  the  consciousness  of  which  had  preserved 
me  since  from  Deism  ;  but  which,  whether  or  not  T 
might  ever  hope  to  obtain  it,  was,  alas,  how  fear- 
tuUy  uncertain ! 
It  grew  night;  supper  was  over;  it  was  warm, 


AUTOBIOGRAPnY. 


73 


and  we  were  sitting  in  a  piazza  open  to  the  south- 
west breeze  which  fans  our  summer  evenings.  My 
sister  was  singing  with  a  softj  clear  voice  some  of 
the  songs  of  the  camp-meeting ;  and  as  she  paused, 
my.  father  touched  my  shoulder  with  his  hand  and 
slowly' walked  away.  I  followed  him  till  he  had 
reached  the  farthest  end  of  the  piazza  on  another 
side  of  the  house,  when  turning  to  me  he  expressed 
himself  in  a  few  brief  words,  to  the  effect  that  he 
felt  himself  to  have  been  for  a  long  time  in  a  back- 
slidden state,  and  that  he  must  forthwith  acknow- 
ledge the  grace  of  God  in  his  children,  or  perish. 
His  words  were  few,  but  they  were  enough,  and 
strong  enough.  I  sank  to  my  knees  and  burst  into 
tears  at  the  utterance  of  them,  while  for  a  moment 
he  stood  trembling  by  me,  and  then  bade  me  get 
the  books.  The  Bible  was  put  on  the  table ;  the 
family  came  together;  he  read  the  103d  Psalm, 
and  then  he  kneeled  down  and  prayed  as  if  he  felt 
indeed  that  life  or  death,  heaven  or  hell,  depended 
on  the  issue.  That  was  the  hour  of  grace  and 
mercy— grace  restored  to  my  father  as  in  times  of 
my  infancy,  and  mercy  to  me  in  breaking  the  snare 
of  the  fowler  that  my  soul  might  escape.  That 
most  truly  solemn  and  overwheUning  s.ervice  of  the 
family  over,  I  took  occasion  to  remind  my  brother- 
in-law  of  our  conversation  the  year  before,  when  I 
had  expressed  a  purpose  of  joining  the  Church 
without  delay  if  ever  I  should  be  favored  to  feel 
again  as  I  had  formerly  felt.  This  great  visitation 
I  was  now  conscious  had  been  granted  me,  and  I 


74  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


wislied  under  the  influence  of  it  to  bind  myself  to 
tlie  fulfilment  of  that  purpose,  which  I  promised  to 
do  the  next  time  the  circuit-preacher  came  to  Eem- 
bert's  meeting-house. 

I  did  not  consider  my  feelings  on  this  occasion 
to  imply  conversion,  any  more  than  those  of  the 
night  after  the  camp-meeting  in  1806.  My  faith 
embraced  not  so  much.  But  I  knew  them  to  be 
from  God,  as  I  had  known  it  on  that  former  occa- 
sion, and  this  alone  was  half  a  world  to  me.  I 
went  to  bed,  and  bowed  my  knees  to  the  God  and 
Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  with  a  heart  suf- 
fused with  adoring  gratitude.  The  next  morning, 
as  I  awoke  calm  and  refreshed  from  sleep,  it  was 
suggested  to  my  mind  that  I  may  have  been  hasty 
in  the  promise  I  had  made.  What  if  I  should  not 
find  those  strong  emotions  under  which  I  made  it 
renewed  again?  What  if  possibly  all  that  had 
transpired  should  prove  to  be  a  mere  matter  of 
sympathy,  and  not  of  God  at  all  ?  I  trembled  at 
the  bare  suggestion,  but  a  moment  on  my  knees 
taught  me  whence  it  came,  and  reassured  my  con- 
fidence. God  had  visitfed  me  indeed.  The  flinty 
rock  had  been  smitten,  and  gave  forth  water ;  and 
I,  even  I,  had  access  to  a  throne  of  mercy  for  the 
Redeemer's  sake.  Blackstone  was  laid  aside,  and 
the  Bible  became  again  my  one  book.  And  now 
I  longed  with  intense  desire  for  the  time  to  arrive 
when,  by  joining  the  Church,  I  should  formally 
break  with  the  world,  and  identify  myself  with 
those  who,  (at  least  then,  and  in  that  part  of  the 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


76 


country,)  for  being  the  most  spiritual  and  least  world- 
ly, were  regarded  tlie  most  enthusiastic  and  least 
rational  of  all  the  sects  of  Christians.  My  great  want 
was  to  know  God  as  they  knew  him,  in  the  for- 
giveness of  sins,  and  to  serve  him  as  they  served  him, 
not  as  servants  only,  but  as  sons,  having  the  spirit 
of  adoption,  crying,  Abba,  Father.  (Rom.  viii.  15.) 

It  was  one  of  the  Sabbath  days  between  the  first 
and  middle  of  the  month  of  August  that  this 
event  of  my  joining  the  Methodist  Church  took 
place.  And  to  show  the  unqualified  simplicity  and 
hearty  confidence  with  which  it  was  done,  I  will 
give  an  anecdote,  which,  of  itself,  should  not  seem 
worth  relating :  The  meeting  over,  I  accompanied 
my  brother-in-law  and  sister  to  the  house  of  an  old 
Methodist  gentleman,  (a  very  prototype  of  true 
Christian  simplicity,)  with  whom  they  were  to  dine 
on  their  way  home.  I  was  dressed  with  more  than 
usual  care :  my  clothes  in  the  point  of  the  fashion, 
with  a  deep  frill  of  linen  cambric  and  a  full-sized 
breastpin  at  my  bosom;  (bad  taste  certainly,  for 
one's  dress  should  be  agreeable  to  one's  company.) 
And  as  we  sat  at  table,  my  old  friend  said  to  me : 
^'Well,  you  have  joined  the  Methodists,  and  now 
you  must  lay  aside  your  breastpin  and  ruffles." 
"Why  should  I,  sir?"  I  asked;  and  he  only 
answered,  "  If  you  don't  pull  them  off,  you  must 
button  your  waistcoat  over  them  and  hide  them ; 
you  mustn't  let  the  preacher  see  them. ' '  And  there 
ended  the  colloquy.  But  it  was  food  for  thought. 
"Hide  them!"  He  said  that  evasively;  he  did  not 


76 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


mean  for  me  to  hide  them,  but  that  I  should  take 
them  off.  But  for  what  possible  reason  should  I 
take  them  off?  And  I  could  think  of  none.  I 
had  heard  of  none,  and  was  profoundly  puzzled. 
Still  there  must  be  some  reason  for  it ;  and  what 
could  it  be  ?  Why,  the  reason  he  had  told  me.  I 
had  joined  the  Methodists,  and  that  was  the  reason. 
The  Methodists  did  not  wear  superfluous  orna- 
ments, did  they?  And  I  could  not  call  to  mind 
one  of  them  who  did.  Well  then,  thought  I,  the 
question  is  settled.  When  did  I  ever  change  the 
fashion  of  my  dress  for  any  better  reason  than  that 
the  fashion  had  changed,  and  I  must  be  in  the 
fashion?  Henceforth  the  Methodist  fashion  shall 
be  mine ;  and  done  as  I  am  with  the  world,  I  will 
follow  the  lead  of  this  godly  people  in  every  thing. 
Arrived  at  my  brother-in-law's,  my  first  act  was  to 
rip  off  the  frill  from  my  bosom,  which  my  sister 
kept,  as  a  memorial  of  those  simple-hearted  times, 
for  many  years. 

That  day  I  consider  the  most  eventful  of  my  life — 
the  pivot  of  the  rest.  In  the  evening,  that  most 
godly  man  and  best  of  ministers,  the  Eev.  William 
Gassaway,  favored  us  with  his  company,  and  passed 
the  night,  (having  an  appointment  for  the  next  day 
at  Clark's  meeting-house,  a  few  miles  below  my 
brother-in-law's  residence,  which  we  purposed  at- 
tending;) and  fresh  to  my  heaii;  is  the  remembrance 
of  that  evening.  After  considerable  conversation 
and  jjrayer,  with  myself  alone  in  his  chamber,  he 
proposed  to  me  to  meet  him  at  Camden,  some  three 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


77 


weeks  to  come,  and  accompany  him  around  on  his 
circuit.  Brother  Kennedy,  his  junior  colleague,  / 
would  be  with  him  for  part  of  the  round,  and  he 
thought  I  would  find  it  both  pleasant  and  profita- 
ble. I  thought  so  too,  and  gladly  accepted  his  pro- 
posal if  my  father  should  have  no  objection  to  it. 
The  meeting  the  next  day  was  one  to  be  remem- 
bered ;  atid  what  with  that,  the  godly  counsel  of  my 
reverend  friendj  and  the  cheering  influence  of  the 
joyful  faith,  of  my  brother  and  sister,  I  felt  con- 
firmed in  every  pious  resolution. 

At  the  time,  which  I  had  been  eagerly  anticipat- 
ing, I  was  in  Camden  ;  and  soon  found  that  there 
was  much  more  in  my  being  there  than  I  had 
dreamed  of.  What  was  it,  to  my  apprehension, 
more  than  a  mere  journey,  which  I  was  to  make 
with  my  reverend  friend,  for  the  benefit  of  his* 
guidance  in  seeking  the  grace  of  God,  and  that  I 
might  attend  the  meetings  daily  ?  And  not  know- 
ing any  one  in  Camden,  nor  where  Mr.  Gassaway 
might  lodge ;  nor  even  thinking  that  if  I  did  know, 
it  might  be  proper  for  me  to  obtrude  myself  on 
strangers,  I  had  stopped  at  the  door  of  a  house  of 
entertainment,  and  was  just  alighting  from  my  , 
horse,  when  our  venerated  patriarch  of  Rembert's 
church,  and  Kembert's  settlement,  passing  by,  ar- 
rested me  with,  "You  mustn't  stop  here.  Haven't 
you  come  to  ride  with  brother  Gassaway  ?  Go  with 
me  to  brother  Smith's."  (It  was  that  brother 
Smith  whose  praise  was  in"  all  the  churches,  and 
whose  memory  is  still  precious,  as  one  of  the  purest 


78  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

and  best  of  Methodist  preachers  ;  who  many  years 
hefore  had  married  a  relation  of  father  Eembert's, 
and  was  now  located  in  Camden.)  And  right  will- 
ingly I  went;  not  understanding,  however,  why 
riding  w^ith  brother  Gassaway  should  confer  on  me 
such  consequence,  nor  dreaming  of  any  technical 
meaning  w^hich  "Tiding''  with  him  might  have.  But 
how  great  was  my  amazement  at  the  hour  of  family 
prayer  that  night,  when  the  books  were  handed  me 
by  brother  Smith,  and  I  was  asked  to  have  prayers 
for  them.  Could  it  be  right?  And  could  I  possibly 
perform  it?  But  it  struck  me  that  I  was  not  a  judge. 
If  it  seemed  wrong  for  me  to  offer  prayers  for  those 
who  were  so  much  wiser  and  better  than  myself, 
that  could  not  make  it  right  for  me  to  seem  to  know- 
better  than  they  by  refusing  to  do  it.  So  I  took  the 
•books ;  though  the  extreme  agitation  I  was  under 
scarcely  admitted  of  reading,  and  much  less  pray- 
ing. The  sanctuary,  next  day,  was  refreshing  to 
me,  as  morning,  afternoon  and  evening  I  heard  the 
gospel  which  I  believed.  Monday  was  spent  b}'  my 
excellent  friends  Gassaway  and  Kennedy  in  visiting 
their  flock.  They  took  me  with  them,  and  called 
on  me  several  times  to  pray  ;  which  I  did  with  no 
little  perturbation,  doubting  its  propriety.  But  the 
next  day  (September  12)  taxed  my  simple  submis- 
siveness  still  more  severely.  We  left  Camden  for 
the  country  appointments,  w^hich  began  this  day  at 
a  meeting-house  in  the  pine-woods  toward  Lynche's 
creek,  then  called  Smith's,  (afterwards  Marshall's,) 
among  a  very  poor  people.     Brother  Kennedy 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


79 


preached ;  while  I  was  seated  against  the  wall  of 
the  house  remote  from  the  pulpit,  (not  knowing  yet 
the  meaning  of  the  phrase  '^riding  with  brother 
Gassaway,"  nor  dreaming  that  it  had  the  least  con- 
nection with  any  thing  official  on  my  part ;)  and  the 
sermon  over,  he  beckoned  me  to  the  pulpit.  It  w^as 
a  sort  of  coarse  box  open  at  one  end,  and  elevated 
a  single  step  above  the  rest  of  the  floor.  Brother 
Gassaway  was  sitting  in  it,  and  reaching  out  his 
hand  as  I  advanced,  said  to  me,  "Exhort."  He  said 
no  more,  but,  as  I  seemed  to  hesitate,  repeated  the 
same  word  '^Exhort,"  with  a  slight  movement  of  his 
hand,  as  if  to  induce  me  to  come  into  the  pulpit, 
the  bench  of  which  was  sufficiently  taken  up  with 
himself  and  his  colleague.  It  was  probably  the  first 
time  I  had  heard  the  word ;  and  certainly  the  first 
of  my  hearing  it  as  a  technical  word.  "Exhort?" 
thought  I.  That  is  from  "  exoro"  or  "exhortor;" 
but  what  am  I  to  make  of  it?  "What  would  he  have 
me  do?  "Exhort,"  repeated  my  reverend  friend, 
unconscious  of  using  a  hard  word  which  might  not 
be  understood.  And  at  the  second  or  third  repeti- 
tion of  the  word,  with  only  the  interpretation  of  a 
slight  pull  of  my  hand,  which  he  was  holding,  I 
hit  on-  his  meaning,  and  stepping  into  the  box  be- 
gan to  exhort,  if  I  may  call  it  so.  The  word  served 
me  for  a  text— " earnestly  to  beseech,"  "to  prevail 
by  entreaty;"  and  so  I  made  an  effort  to  beseech 
"  the  people  to  believe  and  do  as  they  had  been 
taught  by  the  preacher.  But  that  afternoon  and 
evening  I  was  sorely  troubled  on  this  account.  My 


80  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

reverence  for  holy  things  was  offended  at  my  un- 
worthiness  to  such  a  degree  that  it  seemed  impos- 
sible for  me  to  be  reconciled  to  myself.  True,  I 
was  not  capable  of  judging  for  myself  in  such  mat- 
ters, and  had  acted  by  the  direction  of  my  spiritual 
guides,  whose  competency  I  could  not  question ; 
but  then  thev  did  not  know  me  as  I  knew  mvself, 
and  might  be  misled  by  excess  of  charity.  ^'O, 
brother  Gassaway,"  said  I,  "I  am  in  a  wilderness. 
Everything  is  dark  about  me,  and  I  know  not  what 
to  do.  Surely  I  ought  not  to  keep  on  vdth.  you, 
and  to  go  back  from  you  I  am  afraid."  "Well,  my 
son,"  said  the  dear  old  gentleman,  "  God  has  brought 
yoii  thus  far ;  lean  not  to  your  own  understanding, 
but  be  humble  still,  and  he  will  guide  you  through." 
To  brother  Kennedy,  whose  comparative  youth 
made  him  more  familiar,  (or  at  least  made  me  more 
familiar  with  him,)  I  expressed  myself  more  at 
length.  I  was  not  a  preacher ;  never  to  be  a  preach- 
er :  never  could  be  made  a  preacher;  and  how  could 
it  be  right  for  me  to  stand  up  in  a  pulpit,  or  any- 
where else,  to  exhort?  That  I  was  not  a  preacher 
was  certain ;  but  he  held  that  my  exhorting  did 
not  imply  that  I  was  one,  nor  even  that  I  was  to 
become  one.  Every  Christian  man,  and  every  one 
seeking  with  an  awakened  conscience  to  become  a 
Christian,  was  at  liberty  to  recommend  religion  to 
others,  and  ought  in  duty  to  do  so ;  and  my  ex- 
hortation was  no  more  than  the  doing  of  this  in  a 
formal  manner. 

The  next  day,  at  the  house  of  ^n  old  gentleman 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


81" 


by  the  name  of  Parrisli,  on  Lynche's  creek,  I  was 
again  told  to  exhort ;  and  again  the  day  following 
at  a  meeting-house  called  Lizzenby's ;  and  on  both 
these  occasions  I  attempted  to  comply  with  the  re- 
quisition. On  Friday,  Saturday,  and  Sunday  we 
attended  a  Quarterly  Meeting,  which  was  conducted 
as  a  camp-meeting,  at  Knight's  meeting-house,  on 
Fork  creek.  "  Work  for  life,  as  well  as  from  life," 
was  now  the  word;  and  while  I  had  no  need  of 
teaching  as  to  the  worthlessness  of  works  of  any 
kind  for  the  procurement  of  grace  meritoriously,  I 
was  taught  to  look  for  the  witness  of  adoption  in 
denying  my  will,  and  taking  up  my  cross  as  a  means 
which  God  might  bless.  And*  it  was  not  in  the 
stand  (pulpit)  only,  nor  at  stated  hours,  but  wherever 
and  as  often  as  occasion  served  I  was  exhorting.  At 
this  meeting  I  found  that  unspeakable  blessing 
which  I  had  been  so  earnestly  seeking,  "  the  Spirit 
of  adoption,  whereby  we  cry,  Abba,  Father;"  the 
Spirit  itself  bearing  witness  with  my  spirit  that  I 
was  a  child  of  God.  A  love-feast  was  held  on  Sun- 
day morning  at  9  o'clock.  I  had  never  attended 
one,  and  happened  never  to  have  made  any  inqui- 
ries about  them ;  so  that  going  into  this  one  I  knew 
not  how  it  was  to  be  conducted,  nor  of  what  the 
service  should  consist.  I  first  found  myself  strongly 
affected  on  seeing  one  and  another  refused  ad- 
mission by  the  preacher  at  the  door ;  a  vivid  repre- 
sentation being  made  to  my  mind  of  the  character 
of  the  meeting,  in  which,  as  I  supposed,  none  but 
approved  persons  could  be  present,  and  others  were 


82 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


rejected.  At  first  I  felt  as  if  I  too  liad  no  right  to 
be  there.  It  was  a  meeting  for  Christians  only, 
and  without  the  witness  of  adoption  I  could  not 
claim  that  title.  "Was  it  partiality,  or  lack  of  infor- 
mation, which  had  let  me  in  while  others  were  ex- 
cluded? I  might  not  hope  to  be  admitted  into 
heaven  thus,  for  God  himself  would  be  the  Judge. 
And  what  should  it  avail  me  to  be  in  the  Church, 
and  gathered  in  communion  with  its  members  in 
holy  services,  if  at  last  the  door  of  heaven  should 
be  shut  against  me  ?  But  I  was  not  suffered  to  pur- 
sue this  train  of  thought ;  but  my  mind  was  sud- 
denly and  intensely  taken  up  with  an  opposite  one. 
Was  there  any  thing'  lacking  to  me  which  Christ 
could  not  give  ?  Had  he  not  bought  me  with  the 
price  of  his  own  blood,  which  had  pledged  his  will- 
ingness with  his  power  to  save  ?  And  why  was  I 
so  long  without  the  witness  of  adoption,  except  only 
for  my  unbelief?  Faith  that  should  trust  him  to 
bestow  his  grace,  would  honor  him  more  than  the 
unbelief  that  doubted  of  his  doing  so  much.  All 
this  and  much  more  was  presented  to  my  mind  in 
an  instant,  and  I  felt  an  indescribable  yearning  after 
faith.  Yes,  I  felt  much  more  :  there  came  with  it 
such  a  prevailing  apprehension  (or  should  I  not  call 
it  manifestation  ?)  of  Christ  as  a  present  Saviour,  my 
present  Saviour,  that  to  believe  seemed  to  imply  no 
effort.  I  could  not  but  believe.  I  saw  it,  as  it  were, 
and  I  felt  it,  and  knew  it,  that  Christ  was  mine, 
that  I  had  received  of  the  Spirit  through  him,  and 
was  become  a  child  of  God. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  83 

This  gracious  change  was  attended  with  new 
views  as  to  my  calling  in  life.  I  could  no  longer 
say,  nor  think,  that  I  was  never  to  be  a  preacher ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  it  appeared  to  me,  and  the 
conviction  grew  stronger  and  stronger,  that  I  was 
called  to  preach.  The  round  on  the  circuit  was 
made  without  any  more  such  feelings  as  those  I 
had  complained  of  at  the  beginning  of  it;  while 
I  was  daily  concluding  meetings  for  brother  Gassa- 
way,  and  generally  with  exhortation.  At  the  close 
of  the  round  I  returned  home  for  a  week,  while  he 
was  visiting  his  family.    My  father  was  satisfied 

'  that  I  should  follow  the  course  which  I  now  thought 
my  duty ;  the  study  of  law  was  abandoned,  and  my 
law-books  returned ;  and  it  was  fully  arranged  for 
me  to  continue  with  brother  Gassaway  as  long  as 
he  thought  proper,  or  should  remain  on  that  circuit. 
I  was  now  "riding"  with  him  in  earnest;  exhorting 
almost  as  often  as  he  preached,  and  employing  the 
time  at  my  command  between  services  in  studying 
the  Scriptures.  But  I  might  not  get  on  thus  smoothly 
without  molestation.  I  think  it  was  during  my 
second  round  that  I  began  to  be  worried  with  the 
lameness  of  my  exhortations ;  which  appeared  to 
me  insufferably  weak;  and  took  up  an  idea  that  to 
make  a  preacher  at  all,  I  must  pursue  a  different 
course  from  the  one  I  was  engaged  in.  What  ap- 
peared to  me  desirable,  and  even  necessary  for  my 
success,  was  a  regular  course  of  divinity  studies, 

'  which  I  should  pursue  without  interruption  for 
several  years,  till  I  had  acquired  a  sufficient  fund 


84 


LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


of  knowledge  for  preaching.  The  brief  methodistic 
course  of  brother  Gassaway  was,  to  study  and  preach, 
and  preach  and  study,  from  day  to  day.  It  was 
several  weeks  before  I  could  be  brought  to  acquiesce 
in  his  opinion  ;  and  for  most  of  that  time,  so  clearly 
reasonable  and  proper  did  it  appear  to  me  to  desist 
from  all  public  exercises  till  I  should  have  qualified 
myself  to  perform  them  in  a  manner  worthy  of  the 
sacred  oflB.ce,  and  it  was  a  point  so  closely  concern- 
ing conscience,  that  I  must  have  caused  m}^  excel- 
lent friend  some  uneasiness.  However,  his  patient 
spirit  was  sufficient  to  the  trial,  and  most  kindly 
and  affectionately  did  he  still  argue  on.  One  point 
which  he  made,  and  a  capital  one,  I  thought  he 
carried  against  me.  I  had  supposed  two  years  to 
be  necessary  for  the  6tudy  of  divinity  before  I 
should  exercise  at  all  in  public ;  and  that  the  quali- 
fication gained  for  more  effective  service  in  future 
by  these  two  years  of  close  study,  would  more  than 
compensate  for  the  loss  of  time  from  such  imperfect 
efforts  as  I  might  essay  in  the  mean  time  on  his 
plan  of  studying  and  preaching,  and  preaching  and 
studying.  And  the  point  he  made  was,  as  to  the 
qualification  to  be  gained  for  future  usefulness  at 
the  lapse  of  two  or  more  years,  by  the  one  course 
or  by  the  other;  holding,  it  probable  that  a  student 
on  his  plan  would  become  a  better  preacher  at  the 
end  of  a  term  of  years  than  he  w^ould  on  mine. 
He  admitted  that  on  my  plan  he  might  learn  more 
theology,  and  be  able  to  compose  a  better  thesis, 
but  insisted  he  would  not  make  a  better  preacher. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


85 


In  this  argument  lie  insisted  mucli  on  the  practical 
character  of  preaching :  that  to  reach  its  end,  it 
must  be  more  than  a  well-composed  sermon,  or  an 
eloquent  discourse,  or  able  dissertation.  It  must 
have  to  do  with  men  as  a  shot  at  a  mark ;  in  which 
not  only  the  ammunition  should  be  good,  but  the 
aim  true.  The  preacher  must  be  familiar  with  man 
to  reach  him  with  effect,  x^nd  the  force  of  preach- 
ing must  largely  depend,  under  the  blessing  of  God, 
on  the  naturalness  and  truthfulness  of  the  preach- 
er's postulates;  arguing  to  the  sinner  from  what  he 
knows  of  him,  the  necessities  of  his  condition, 
appealing  to  his  conscience,  and  recommending  the 
grace  of  God.  But  he  quite  overcame  me  with  this 
tinal  remark.  It  was  as  we  were  riding  along  that 
dreary  sand-hill  road  in  Chesterfield  District  leading 
from  the  Court-house  toward  Sumterville,  and  I 
seemed  more  than  usually  earnest  in  my  objections, 
that,  after  quite  a  speech  on  my  side  of  the  question, 
he  thus  answered  me :  ^'  Well,  Billy,  it  is  only  sup- 
position, after  all.  And  if  you  are  called  to  preach, 
and  sinners  are  daily  falling  into  hell,  take  care  lest 
the  blood  of  some  of  them  be  found  on  your  skirts." 
Sure  enough,  it  was  only  '^supposition."  The  true 
question  was  as  to  usefulness,  not  eminence ;  and 
with  respect  to  that  matter,  at  least,  I  could  only 
suj)2J0se,  and  could  not  certainly  know,  that  it  might 
be  better  for  me  to  desist  from  my  present  course  and 
adopt  another.  Here  then  ended  that  difficulty 
about  the  exclusive  study  of  divinity.    I  instantly 


86  LIFE    OF    WILLIAiM  CAPERS. 

gave  it  up,  and  thanked  my  friend  for  his  pains  and 
patience  with  me. 

The  Santee  Circuit  at  that  time  extended  from 
a  meeting-house  called  Ganej's,  some  four  miles 
above  Chesterfield,  which  was  its  highest  appoint- 
ment, to  Tawcaw,  near  Santee  river,  which  was  its 
lowest.  And  it  was  on  this  my  second  round 
with  brother  Gassaway,  (October,  1808,)  that  we 
attended  a  camp-meeting  at  Tawcaw;  where  it 
pleased  God  to  give  me  the  encouragement  of 
making  my  very  imperfect  exhortations  instrumen- 
tal of  good  among  the  people.  In  particular,  that 
estimable  and  engaging  young  man,  Joseph  Gallu- 
chat,  afterward  for  many  years  so  well  known  and 
much  beloved  in  Charleston  for  his  abilities  and 
spotless  character  as  a  preacher,  acknowledged  so 
humble  an  instrumentality  as  this,  the  means  of  his 
awakening  and  conversion.  And  this  circum- 
stance tended  no  little  to  confirna  me  in  the  pur- 
pose I  had  formed,  (I  trusted,  under  the  influence 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,)  to  devote  myself  to  the  work 
of  preaching  the  gospel  of  Christ. 

During  my  third  and  last  round  of  riding  with 
brother  Gassaway,  and  as  late  in  the  season  as 
past  the  middle  of  i^ovember,  a  camp-meeting  was 
held  at  Rembert-s ;  (the  second  one  at  the  same 
place  that  year.)  And  this  being  also  the  occasion 
of  the  last  Quarterly  Meeting  for  the  circuit,  at 
the  advice  of  brother  Gassaway,  (Bishop  Asbury 
also  approving,)  I  was  licensed  to  preach,  and  was 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  87 

recommended  to  the  Annual  Conference  to  be  ad' 
mitted  on  trial  in  the  itinerancy.  This  was  done, 
first  the  license  and  then  the  recommendationj  on 
the  25th  of  ^N'ovember,  1808.  A  camp-meeting  was 
held  at  so  late  a  period  in  the  season  because  the 
people  were  in  the  spirit  of  it;  and  for  the  special 
reason  that  the  Bishops,  Asbury  and  McKendree, 
had  appointed  to  meet  on  official  business,  which 
would  occupy  them  several  days,  at  that  time,  at 
the  house  of  their  old  friend,  (the  Gains  of  those 
days,)  James  Rembert,  immediately  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  they  would  attend  the  meeting.  The 
weather  was  very  cold,  colder  than  November 
usually  is ;  but  the  camp-meeting  was  one  of  the 
best  I  have  ever  known.  Different  from  those  of 
former  years  as  to  the  preparations  made  for  per- 
sonal comfort,  a  large  area  of  several  acres  was 
enclosed  with  lines  of  well-built  tents  furnished 
with  fire-places ;  so  that  the  cold,  though  incon- 
venient, did  us  no  harm.  At  this  meeting  it  was 
arranged  that  I  should  continue  on  the  circuit  till 
after  the  Annual  Conference,  which  the  preachers 
were  shortly  to  attend.  Brother  Gassaway  had 
already  concluded  his  work,  and  I  was  to  keep  up 
a  round  of  appointments  in  his  place.  But  I  can- 
not quite  so  briefly  dismiss  the  meeting  at  which 
my  brothers  Gabriel  and  John  were  brought  to  the 
knowledge  of  God,  and  I  first  saw  Bishop  Asbury, 
and  witnessed  his  first  meeting  with  my  father 
since  the  former  days  when  he  used  to  find  a  home 
with  him  at  Bull-Head. 


88 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


But  let  me  here  drop  the  thread  of  my  narrative, 
for  a  few  sentences,  to  connect  this  meeting  with 
Bishop  Ashurj  with  those  former  days  when  my 
father's  house  was  one  of  his  favorite  homes.  It 
may  serve  a  purpose  later  in  my  story,  when  I 
shall  have  occasion  to  mention  his  regard  for  me ; 
which  I  would  hy  no  means  have  you  appropriate 
to  my  own  separate  merits.  I  have  already  men- 
tioned the  fact  that  my  father  was  one  of  the  first 
race  of  Methodists  in  South  Carolina,  and  a  de- 
cided and  influential  one ;  and  intimated,  farther 
pn,  that  he  had  declined  from  his  spirituality  some 
time  after  his  removal  to  Georgetown  District ;  and 
that  it  was  not  til]  the  present  year  (1808)  that  he 
recovered  it.  You  will  remember  that  on  Dr. 
Coke's  visit  to  America  in  1791,  he  was  accom- 
panied from  the  West  Indies  to  Charleston  by  Mr. 
"William  Hammett,  who  remained  there  on  account 
of  his  health ;  and  that  this  Mr.  Hammett,  choos- 
ing to  remain  for  life  in  Charleston,  found  some 
occasion  to  object  to  Mr.  Asbury  and  the  American 
preachers,  as  if  they  had  done  him  a  wrong  on  ac- 
count of  his  devotion  to  Mr.  Wesley ;  Mr.  Asbury 
being  (as  he  represented)  ambitious  of  supplant- 
ing Mr.  Wesley  with  the  American  people.  What 
I  shall  say  of  it  is  derived  from  my  father,  and  a 
parcel  of  letters  between  Mr.  Hammett  and  Mr. 
Wesley — which  came  into  my  possession  from  a 
son  of  Mr.  Hammett,  as  a  token  of  his  regard.  I 
set  it  down  succinctly  from  these  authorities.  Mr. 
Hammett' s  representation  to  Mr.  Wesley  by  letter 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


89 


was  fully  and  strongly  to  the  above  effect;  and 
Mr.  "Wesley's  answers  to  Mr.  Hammett  showed  that 
he  believed  it.  Similar  representations  made  by 
Mr.  TIammett  at  the  same  time  to  the  principal 
Methodist  gentlemen  in  Charleston  and  the  Par- 
-  ishes,  were  thus  confirnied^by  Mr.  Wesley's  letters; 
from  which  it  might  appear  that  since  the  Re- 
volutionary war,  which  carried  Mr.  Rankin  back 
to  England,  Mr.  Wesley  had  had  no  such  con- 
fidential son  in  America  as  he  deemed  Mr.  Ham- 
mett to  be.  Those  letters  were  to  the  date  of  the 
year  1791,  in  which  Mr.  Wesley  died.  Mr.  Ham- 
mett therefore  had  the  confidence  of  Mr.  Wesley 
(by  what  meajis  does  not  appear)  to  the  last  of  his 
life ;  and  on  that  foundation  he  raised  his  society 
of  Primitive  Methodists,  both  in  Charleston  and 
Georgetown.  And  when  we  consider  that  there 
were  then  no  Methodist  books  published  in  Ame- 
rica, and  the  people  knew  little  of  Methodism,  or 
of  the  action  of  the  Conferences,  but  what  they  got 
verbally  from  the  preachers ;  and  that  Mr.  Ham- 
mett had  been  introduced  by  Dr.  Coke  as  one  of 
the  most  godly  as  well  as  the  most  gifted  of  the 
preachers,  the  wonder  is  not  that  he  should  have 
drawn  off  to  himself,  under  a  banner  inscribed 
"AVesley  against  Asbury,"  some  of  the  most  influ- 
ential of  the  people,  but  we  might  wonder  rather 
that  he  did  not  seduce  them  all ;  and  the  more,  as 
he  was  unquestionably  an  eloquent  and  able  man, 
of  fine  person  and  engaging  manners,  and  at  first 
vastly  popular.    But  his  work  did  not  prosper. 


90 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


He  had  estranged  his  adherents,  of  whom  my 
father  was  one,  from  the  rest  of  the  Methodists, 
whom  they  called  "the  Asbury  Methodists,"  for 
no  good  result  either  to  himself  or  them.  But  to 
return. 

I  was  introduced  to  Bishop  Asbury  immediately 
on  his  first  coming  to  the  camp-meeting,  as  I  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  preachers'  tent  at  the  time  of 
his  arrival.  I  approached  him  timidly,  you  may  be 
sure,  and  with  a  feeling  of  profound  veneration ; 
but  "Ah,"  said  he,  "this  is  the  baby;  come  and 
let  me  hug  you:"  meaning  that  I  was  the  baby 
when  he  was  last  at  my  father's  house.  On  my 
father's  entering  the  tent,  he  rose  hastily  from  his 
seat  and  met  him  with  his  arms  extended,  and  they 
embraced  each  other  with  mutual  emotion.  It  had 
been  some  seventeen  years  since  they  had  seen 
each  other ;  and  yet  the  Bishop  asked  after  Sally 
and  Gabriel,  as  if  it  had  been  but  a  few  months, 
and  repeated  gleefully,  "I  have  got  the  baby!" 
It  was  evident  that  no  common  friendship  had  sub- 
sisted between  them ;  and  how  much  happier  had 
those  years  of  estrangement  been  to  my  honored 
father  if  they  had  been  passed  in  the  fellowship 
which  he  had  been  seduced  to  leave  !  I  hate  schism, 
I  abhor  it  as  the  very  track  and  trail  of  him  who 
"  as  a  roaring  lion  walketh  about  seeking  whom  he 
may  devour." 

The  camp-meeting  over,  I  betook  myself  to  the 
circuit,  as  had  been  agreed  upon  ;  not  with  the 
fatherly  sympathies  and  wise  and  godly  counsels 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


91 


of  my  friend  Gassaway  to  sustain  me,  but  to  act 
alone ;  and  that  not  as  an  exliorter  only,  but  as  a 
preacher,  filling  daily  appointments  to  preach.  To 
say  that  I  felt  incompetent,  would  not  express  a 
moiety  of  my  self-distrust.  It  was  an  incom- 
petency in  which  a  lack  of  every  qualification  ex- 
cept a  sense  of  duty  and  a  desire  to  fulfil  it  seemed 
to  be  present.  But  the  good  people  of  the  circuit 
were  kind  and  affectionate,  so  that  I  was  not  per- 
mitted to  know  if  ever  they  considered  me  less 
than  acceptable.  A  few  days  only  at  home  after 
this  round  on  Santee  Circuit,  and  I  got  intelligence 
of  my  appointment  for  the  ensuing  year,  from  Con- 
ference. That  Conference  had  been  held  at  Liberty 
Chapel,  in  Greene  county,  Georgia,  the  26th  of 
December,  1808  ;  and  was  attended  by  both  of  the 
Bishops,  Asbury  and  McKendree.  I  heard  sub- 
sequentl;^  that  my  admission  had  been  objected  to 
by  several  of  the  preachers,  on  the  ground  that  not 
having  yet  been  six  months  on  trial,  and  by  con- 
sequence not  in  full  connection  with  the  member- 
ship of  the  Church,  I  was  ineligible ;  but  that  the 
objection  was  overruled  by  the  Bishops ;  Bishop 
Asbury  deciding  that  in  the  absence  of  any  express 
prohibition,  though  the  inference  by  analogy  was 
against  it,  the  Conference  was  free  to  act,  and 
admit  me,  if  they  deemed  it  proper,'  on  the  merits 
of  the  case.  I  have  known  so  many  mistakes 
about  episcopal  decisions,  (and  when,  too,  the 
reporters  seemed  very  positive,)  that  I  will  not  un- 
dertake to  say  that  the  reasons  of  the  decision  iu 


92 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


this  case  were  as  I  was  told  they  were.  But  it  is 
certainly  and  exactly  true  beyond  doubt  or  dispute, 
that  the  objection  above  stated  was  made  and 
urged  earnestly,  particularly  by  my  venerable 
friend,  then  in  his  prime,  Lewis  Myers ;  and  that 
the  Bishops  (or  Bishop  Asbury,  Bishop  McKendree 
being  present  and  not  dissenting)  did  decide  against 
it ;  and  that  I  was  then  admitted,  when  I  had  been 
but  about  five  months  on  trial  as  a  member  of  the 
Church.  And  it  is  equally  true  that  the  Bishop 
was  not  complained  of  for  his  decision ;  and  that 
no  subsequent  General  Conference  deemed  it  pro- 
per to  take  any  exception  to  his  administration, 
nor  provide  against  the  like  in  future,  as  I  have 
known  done  in  a  recent  case. 

I  was  appointed  to  the  Wateree  Circuit,  which  at 
that  time  extended  from  Twenty-five-mile  creek,  on 
the  west  side  of  the  Wateree  river,  to  Lann's  Ford 
on  the  Catawba ;  and  on  the  east  side,  from  the 
neighborhood  of  Camden  to  mthin  twelve  miles 
of  Charlotte.  "Within  this  broad  range  there  were 
twenty-four  preaching-places,  and  the  time  of  ,a 
round  was  four  weeks,  the  distance  about  three 
hundred  miles,  the  membership  of  the  circuit  four 
hundred  and  ninety-eight  whites  and  one  hundred 
and  twenty-four  colored.  And  yet  I  was  alone,  the 
scarcity  of  preachers  not  allowing  me  a  colleague. 
If  I  felt  my  insufficiency  on  the  round  which  I 
had  just  concluded  in  Santee  Circuit,  where  no- 
thing more  was  required  but  to  preach  and  meet 
the  classes,  how  much  more  now,  when,  with  so 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  93 

wide  a  field  before  me,  and  so  numerous  a  mem- 
bership to  serve,  the  whole  pastoral  care  devolved 
on  me  without  a  helper.  I  had  not  dreamed  that 
one  so  young  as  I  was  might  be  put  in  charge  at 
all.  But  so  it  was.  Nevertheless,  I  had  not  done 
it;  and  should  only  have  to  answer  for  the  manner 
in  which  my  duties  might  be  performed.  Thus 
with  fear  and  trembling,  but  not  without  the  cour- 
age which  a  sense  of  duty  and  an  upright  purpose 
inspires,  I  set  out  to  my  circuit.  I  was  in  time  for 
the  first  appointment  on  the  plan,  at  Sawney's 
creek  meeting-house,  January  7, 1809.  Here  lived 
that  most  remarkable  man,  J.  J.,  whose  goodness 
no  one  ever  doubted,  but  whose  zeal  was  always 
brandishing  in  the  temple  a  scourge  of  not  very 
small  cords,  as  if  for  fear  that  some  one  might  be 
present  who  did  not  love  the  temple  well  enough 
to  take  a  scourging  for  it,  and  who  ought  therefore  to 
be  driven  out ;  and  in  full  faith  that  the  more  men 
were  beaten  the  better  for  themy  as  it  would  make 
them  more  humble  and  less  worldly-minded.  His 
was  the  first  house  I  entered  in  my  new  field  of 
labor ;  and,  if  I  might  have  been  driven  off  by  the 
first  discouragement,  he  might  have  made  my  first 
my  last-  appearance  in  that  quarter.  I  seemed 
^to  be  younger,  greener,  and  a  poorer  prosjDect  for  a 
preacher  in  his  estimate  than  even  in  my  own; 
and  he  was  an  old  preacher,  and  withal  a  famous 
one.  That  first  introduction  to  the  responsiblitieq 
of  my  new  charge  was  after  this  sort : 


94 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


"Well,  have    they  sent   you  to   us    for  our 
preacher?" 
"Yes,  sir." 

"What,  you^  and  the  egg-shell  not  dropped  off  of 
you  yet!  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  us!  And  vi^ho 
have  they  sent  in  charge  ?" 

"ISTo  one,  sir,  hut  myself." 

"What!  you^  hy  yourself?  You  in  charge  of  the 
circuit  ?  Why,  what  is  to  become  of  the  circuit  ? 
The  Bishop  had  just  as  vrell  have  sent  nobody. 
What  can  you  do  in  charge  of  the  circuit?" 

"Very  poorly,  I  fear,  sir,  hut  I  dare  say  the 
Bishop  thought  that  you  would  advise  me  about 
the  Discipline,  and  I  am  sure  he  could  not  have 
sent  one  who  would  follow  your  advice  more  will- 
ingly, brother  J.,  than  I  will." 

"  So,  so.  I  suppose  then  I  am  to  take  charge  of 
the  circuit  for  you,  and  you  are  just  to  do  what  I 
tell  you?" 

"  I  would  be  very  glad,  sir,  to  have  you  take  the 
charge  of  the  circuit." 

"Did  ever!  What,  I,  a  local  preacher,  take 
charge  of  the  circuit  ?  And  is  that  what  you  have 
come  here  for?  Why,  man,  you  know  nothing 
about  your  business.  How  can  /  take  charge  of 
the  circuit  ?  iTo,  no  ;  but  I  can  see  that  you  do  it, 
such  a  charge  as  it  will  be ;  and  if  /  don't,  nobody 
else  will,  for  these  days  the  Discipline  goes  for 
nothing."    And  he  groaned  deeply. 

Such  was  the  colloquy  as  well  as  I  can  rehearse 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


9b 


it;  and  you  may  be  sure  it  made  an  impression 
deep  enough  to  remain  with  me. 

But  how  coukl  I  endure  all  this  ?  In  the  first  place, 
I  recognized  my  censor  as  one  of  the  fathers  of  the 
Church,  whose  character  I  had  heard  of  as  alike 
remarkable  for  goodness  and  severity ;  a  holy  man, 
and  zealous  above  his  fellows,  who  always  carried 
a  rod  as  w^ell  as  a  stafi*;  and  deeply  feeling,  as  I 
did,  the  evil  which  oppressed  him,  I  was  prepared 
to  attribute  his  severity  to  its  proper  cause,  and  not 
to  any  personal  unkindness.  And  then  there  sat 
before  me  his  saintly  wife  ;  one  of  the  meekest, 
gentlest,  and  best  of  her  sex,  whom,  at  first  sight, 
I  had  taken  for  a  mother;  and  if  sister  J.  would 
love  me,  my  old  brother  might  talk  on.  I  knew 
that  there  was  cause  of  trouble  to  his  spirit  in  the 
unprovided  state  of  the  circuit,  and  thought  that  he 
w^as  only  venting  his  troubled  feelings,  without 
meaning  me  any  wrong.  And  this  very  con- 
versation served  to  tell  me  that  my  motherly  sister 
did  love  me.  I  saw  it  in  every  muscle  of  her  face, 
while  her  sympathies  were  stirred  too  intensely  for 
concealment.  Ah,  thought  I,  woman  for  ever  I 
You  may  be  no  better  than  your  husband,  but  you 
are  incomparably  more^lovely. 

The  next  day  I  was  to  preach ;  and  I  felt  some- 
what hopeful  at  night,  on  perceiving  that  he  was 
not  disposed  to  renew  his  severities,  and  that,  with 
all  his  austerity,  he  was  evidently  pleased  with  the 
interest  which  his  wife  took  in  me,  even  making  a 
suggestion  to  her  occasionally,  which  seemed  to 


96  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

mean  that  she  might  use  her  balsam  freely.  But 
his  remarks  were  ill-judged,  and  did  me  harm.  As 
for  the  matter  of  personal  offence,  it  was  nothing. 
I  took  no  offence  at  it.  But  after  I  had  left  his 
house,  and  was  gone  on  my  work,  that  lashing, 
scorching  colloquy  would  recur,  as  if  a  prophet  had 
told  me  from  the  Lord  that  I  was  out  of  my  place 
on  that  circuit. 

My  second  appointment,  after  leaving  brother 
J.'s,  brought  me  to  a  place  called  Granny's  Quarter, 
(the  name  of  a  creek  some  twelve  miles  above 
Camden,)  of  which  I  give  another  sort  of  anecdote: 
My  mind  was  intensely  occupied  with  the  study  of 
the  Discipline,  particularly  the  section  on  the 
duties  of  ]3reachers  who  have  the  charge  of  circuits. 
And  it  happened  that  the  eighth  item  of  the  answer 
to  question  two  of  that  section,  which  made  it  my 
duty  "to  recommend  everywhere  decency  and 
cleanliness,"  had  arrested  my  attention.  It  was 
Discipline,  and  must  be  obeyed  :  but  how  extreme- 
ly delicate,  thought  I,  must  the  duty  sometimes  be  I 
But  there  was  a  case  just  at  hand.  The  house  at 
which  I  stopped  was  exceeding  dirty,  so  that  clean- 
liness was  out  of  the  question,  and  even  decency 
put  to  the  blush.  But  it  was  the  house  of  a  brother 
and  sister.  Cleanliness  was  next  to  godliness  ;  the 
Discipline  required  of  Methodists  to  be  cleanly,  and 
of  me  to  recommend  it  everywhere.  If  I  neglected 
ray  duty  under  the  Discipline,  the  people  might 
neglect  theirs  ;  and  if  this  particular  one,  then  any 
other  as  they  liked.    The  case  was  clear ;  my  duty 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


97 


plain ;  but  how  to  go  to  work  in  sucli  a  matter  was 
the  que&tion.  Something  must  be  done,  and  that 
directly  to  the  point.  I  must  recommend  cleanli- 
ness to  the  sisterly  housekeeper,  or  neglect  my  duty 
and  seem  to  wink  at  her  uncleanliness.  How  was 
I  to  do  it  ?  This  question  was  uppermost  in  my 
mind  all  the  evening ;  but  to  no  purpose,  for  not  a 
word  could  I  find  to  say.  The  next  morning  my 
thoughts  were  still  on  my  new  and  difficult  task, 
how  to  recommend  cleanliness  to  my  sister  so  as  to 
induce  her  to  keep  her  house  clean ;  and  still  it 
seemed  a  thing  past  my  accomplishment.  Break- 
fast was  brought  in,  and  no  expedient  could  I  think 
of,  till,  turning  up  my  plate,  which  was  of  pewter, 
and  observing  the  color  of  it  to  be  of  that  dingy 
cast  which  it  contracts  from  being  used  without 
rubbing,  I  began  pretty  much  as  follows : 

"  AVTiere  did  you  get  yolir  plates,  sister  ?  They 
are  excellent  for  use  at  a  distance  from  town,  where 
the  breakage  of  crockery  is  often  inconvenient, 
and  I  wonder  that  I  don't  meet  with  such  oftener." 

"  Got  them  at  Mr.  — — 's,  in  Camden.  They 
are  mighty  good  for  not  breaking,  but  they  don't 
look  as  pretty  as  queensware  does,  is  the  reason,  I 
reckon,  why  people  don't  have  them." 

"Well,  but  if  they  are  clean,  you  know,  their 
looking  dark  don't  make  any  odds.  Cleanliness, 
to  be  sure,  is  next  to  godliness ;  but  then  it  may 
be  with  that  as  with  most  other  things  which  may 
not  be  just  as  they  look.  I  have  seen  things  that 
looked  clean  when  they  were  not  clean,  and  these 
4 


98 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


plates  are  clean,  I  am  sure,  though  tliej  look  rather 
darker  than  you  would  like  to  see  them." 

Her  countenance  here  showed  that  she  took  the 
hint,  and,  I  thought,  took  it  well ;  so  I  proceeded, 
and  told  of  a  sister  whom  I  loved  very  much  for 
her  Christian  qualities  and  her  neat  housekeeping, 
who  cleaned  her  pewter  by  rubbing  it  briskly  with 
fine  sand  on  a  piece  of  coarse  woollen,  just  as  I  had 
seen  it  done  with  brickdust,  which  I  thought  bet- 
ter. This  served  for  the  pewter  plates.  Knives 
and  forks  required  the  same  sort  of  rubbing,  as 
they  also  contracted  a  dirty  look  by  only  washing 
and  wiping  them,  no  matter  how  clean.  I  did  not 
like,  though,  the  way  I  had  sometimes  seen  some 
little  negroes  doing  it,  by  jobbing  them-  into  the 
ground.  It  was  better-  to  rub  the  knives  briskly 
across  a  soft  piece  of  plank  on  which ,  brickdust  or . 
dry  ashes  had  been  laid.  And  thus  I  proceeded 
to  tlxe  end  of  the  chapter;  relieving  it  as  best- 1 
could,  and  watching  closely  the  countenance  of  my 
pupil,  lest  I  should  offend  her.  My  work  was  done, 
and,  judging  of  the  cause  by  the  effect,  it  was  well 
done ;  for  I  never  afterwards  found  that  a  dirty 
house.  The  pewter  plates  and  knives  and  forks 
were  not  only  cleaned,  but  made  to  look  clean ; 
and  my  sister  became  one  of  the  kindest  and  most 
affectionate  of  my  sisters.  I  stopped  with  them 
every  round  I  made,  and  found  myself  always  a 
welcome  guest  and  in  comfortable  quarters. 

The  general  feeling  of  discouragement  which 
was  apt  to  follow  a  recollection  of  the  strong  terms 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


99 


in  which  brother  J.  had  expressed  hia  disappoint- 
ment at  my  being  sent  to  the  circuit  and  in  charge, 
began  early  on  this  first  round  to  work  temptation. 
Startled  as  he  appeared  to  be  at  the  unsuitableness 
of  the  appointment,  perhaps  others  .might  not 
credit  it  at  all.  The  country  was  strange,  though 
it  was  not  far  from  home ;  no  one  knew  me,  nor 
had  ever  heard  of  me,  and' I  might  be  rejected  as 
an  impostor.  Eiding.up  to  my  preaching-places, 
the  stare  of  the  people  seemed  to  say,  "  It  is  im- 
possible;  this"  boy  cannot  be  the  man."  If,  as  I 
passed  through  the  company  going  into  the  meet- 
ing-house, any  one  accosted  me,  the  impression 
was,  I  am  suspected  and  shall  be  asked  for  my  cre- 
dentials. And  this  was  the  more  annoying  as  I  ?iad 
not  with  me  a  single  line  to  certify  my  appointment, 
nor  that  I  was  a  preacher  at  all.  It  was  on  my 
second  or  third  round,  that,  coming  to  brother  J.'s, 
he  asked  me  in  his  usual  earnest  manner  how  many 
members  I  had  turned  out  at  H.  meeting-house. 
"^Tone,  sir."  '''  What,  do  you  let  the  people  get 
drunk,  run  for  the  bottle  and  turn  up  jack,  and  keep 
them  in  the  Church?"  "My  dear  sir,  I  hope 
nobody  does  so  at  H.  I  am  sure  I  never  heard  of 
it."  ''A  pfretty  piece  of  business,"  rejoined  he  ; 
"  why,  at  Polly  H.^s  wedding  a  whole  parcel  of  them 
ran  for  the  bottle,  and  old  J.  A.  held  it,  and  got 
drunk  into  the  bargain.  And  now  you,  the  ^preacher 
in  charge,  come  here  and  tell,  me  that  you  never 
heard  of  it,  though  I  can  hear  of  it  forty  miles  off." 
This  was  a  poser  for  me.    I  had  not  a  word  to  say. 


100 


LIFE    or    WILLIAM  CAPERB. 


Can  lie  be  mistaken,  thought  I  ?  Surely  not,  or  he 
would  not  speak  so  positively.  And  then  he  gives 
me  names.  But  how  could  such  monstrous  wrong- 
doing have  been  perpetrated  without  my  getting  at 
least  some  inkling  of  it?  I  had  not  confidence 
enough  to  ask  him  any  questions,  but  sat  con- 
founded under  a  second  flagellation,  the  wordy 
strokes  of  which,  however,  were  of  little  conse- 
quence compared  to  the  facts  stated,  that  euch 
immoralities  had  been  practiced,  and  that  the 
perpetrators  had  not  been  brought  to  trial.  But 
this  was  to  be  the  last  of  my  trials  from  brother  J. 
that  year.  "With  feelings  too  sad  for  society,  I  took 
the  earliest  hour  for  retirement.  My  bed.  was  in 
an  upper  room,  the  floor  of  which  was  made  of 
loose  plank,  without  ceiling  of  any  kind  at  the 
lower  edges  of  the  joists,  which  might  have  ob- 
structed the  passage  of  sounds  from  the  room 
below.  And  I  had  not  been  long  in  bed  before  I 
heard  my  kind-hearted  sister  say,  "0,  Mr.  J.,  you 
don't  know  how  much  you  have  grieved  me." 

Grieved  you,  Betsey,"  replied  he;  "how  in  the 
world  can  I  have  grieved  you  ?"  "  By  the  way  you 
have  talked  to  brother  Capers.  I  am  afraid  he  will 
never  come  here  again.  How  can  you  talk  to  him 
so?"  "Why,  Betsey,  child,"  returned  he,  "don't 
you  reckon  I  love  Billy  as  well  as  you  do?  I 
talk  to  him  so  because  I  love  him.  He'll  find 
people  enough  to  honey  him  without  my  doing  it ; 
and  he  has  got  to  learn  to  stand  trials,  that's  all." 
Sister  J.  seemed  not  to  be  satisfied,  but  wished  to 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


101 


extort  a  promise  that  he  would  not  talk  so  roughly 
to  me  any  more.  But  his  conscience  was  concerned 
in  that,,  and  he  would  not  promise  it.  "  You  may 
honey  him,"  said  he,  "as  much  as  you  please,  but 
I  go  for  making  him  a  Methodist  preacher."  Well 
then,  thought  I,  it  is  a  pity,  my  old  friend,  that  you 
should  spoil  your  work  by  not  tightening  your  floor. 
You  might  as  well  have  promised  it,  for  I  will  take 
care  that  you  shall  not  make  any  -thing  b}^  the 
refusal.  The  next  morning  it.  was  not  long  before 
something  fetched  up  the  unpleasant  theme,  and  as 
he  was  warming  into  the  smiting  spirit,  I  looked 
in  his  face  and  smiled.  "  What !"  said  he,  "  do  you 
laugh  at  it?"  "As  well  laugh  as  cry,  brother  J.," 
I  returned*;  "did  you  not  tell  sister  J.  last  night 
that  you  loved  me  as  well  as  she  did,  and  only 
wanted  to  make  a  Methodist  preacher  of  me  ?  I 
am  sure  you  would  not  have  me  cry  for  any  thing 
that  is  to  do  me  so  much  good."  It  was  all  over  : 
he  joined  in  the  laugh,  and  threw  away  his  seeming 
ill-humor.  But  as  for  the  matter  of  the  immorali- 
ties at  H.j  it  turned  out  to.  be  all  a  hoax.  Somef. 
wag,  knowing  how  much  such  a  circumstance 
would  trouble  him,  probably  originated  the  tale 
.  just  for  that  purpose. 

But  I  could  not  so  easily  divest  myself  of  the 
impression  made  on  my  mind  by  that  first  conversa- 
tion with  him.  "What  was  to  become  of  the  cir- 
cuit?" and,  "The  Bishop  had  as  well  have  sent  no- 
body," were  words  I  could  not  digest.  Surely,  I 
thought,  they  must  express  his  judgment  as  to  my 


102  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

unfitness  for  my  work,  "the  egg-sliell  not  dropped 
off  of  me  yet."  That  judgment  being  against  me,  is 
the  foundation  of  all  this  harshness  after  all ;  and 
perhaps  I  had  as  well  give  up  the  circuit  and  return 
liome.  My  mind  became  cloudy  and  uncomforta- 
ble, and  I  was  next  tempted  to  doubt  my  being 
called  to  preach ;  so  that  before  the  first  Quarterly 
Meeting  I  was  in  great  perplexity  and  sore  trouble. 
Indeed,  I  would  have  left  the  circuit,  but  for  the 
consideration  that  I  was  bound  by  contract  with 
the  Conference  to  the  contrary ;  for  such  appeared 
to  me  to  be  the  nature  of  the  transaction  in  which 
I  had  offered  myself  for  the  itinerancy,  had  been 
accepted,  and  was  appointed  to  the  circuit.  At  the 
Quarterly  Meeting,  however,  I  would  see  the  presid- 
ing elder  who  represented  the  Conference,  state  the 
whole  case  to  him,  and  get  myself  discharged.  In 
the  mean  time  I  proposed  to  relax  nothing  in  the 
way  of  official  duty;  as,  at  the  worst,  I  might  be  no 
worse  than  the  Scribes  sitting  in  Moses'  seat,  and 
the  people  had  better  hear  the  gospel  from  my  lips, 
and  have  the  Discipline  administered  by  me,  than 
be  left  wholly  to  themselves ;  especially  as  I  was 
exceeding  nice  to  avoid  all  speculation,  and  stick 
closely  to  the  books.  But  at  the  Quarterly  Meeting 
no  opportunity  presented  for  such  a  conversation 
with  the  presiding  elder  as  I  wished,  before  preach- 
ing on  Saturday.  He  preached,  and  the  sermon 
seemed  to  have  been  formed  for  me.  I  was  greatly 
comforted  and  relieved ;  so  that  the  whole  time  of 
his  presence  in  the  circuit  passed  without  my  saying 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


103 


a  word  of  what  had  been  intended.  And  yet  he 
was  scarcely  gone  before  the  temptation  returned 
with  redoubled  violence,  and  I  became  unhappy. 
There  were  several  excellent  men,  local  preachers,  ^  - 
in  the  circuit,  (that  father  in  Israel,  Robert  Hancock, 
for  one,)  to  whom  I  might  have  opened  my  mind  to 
great  advantage,  but  Satan  hindered  me.  The  pre- 
vailing  suggestions  for  secrecy  were,  that  even  as 
things  were  I  might  scarcely  hope  to  do  any  good, 
but  to  let  it  be  known  that  I  was  not  called  to 
preach,  and  yet  was  preaching,  would  turn  the  peo- 
ple away  from  their  duty  altogether ;  and  that  if  I 
advised  with  any  but  brother  J.,. whose  judgment  I 
had  already,  the  delicacy  of  the  subject  and  kind- 
ness of  their  feelings  would  get  the  better  of  their 
/judgment,  and  mislead  me.  To  give  up  the  work 
I  could  not  for  the  reason  stated ;  and  to  continue 
in  it  under  such  extreme  embarrassment,  seemed 
scarcely  to  be  a  smaller  evil. 

It  was  in  such  circumstances  that,  attending  an 
appointment  at  Carter's  meeting-house,  in  Chester 
District,  I  had  the  painful  duty  to  perform  of  ex- 
pelling one  of  the  members  on  a  charge  of  crim. 
con.  It  was  a  female.  Her  father-in-law,  and  the 
connections  on  that  side  generally,  believed  her 
guilty;  her  husband  held  her  to  be  innocent,  and 
was  partially  deranged  on  account  of  the  affair: 
and  all  the  society  and  most  of  the  people  of  the 
neighborhood  wera  intensely  enlisted  for  or  against 
the  accused.  The  trial  was  conducted  with  exact 
conformity  to  Discipline,  and  her  triers  found  her 


104 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


guilty.  But  on  declaring  the  judgment  of  tlie 
triers,  and  pronouncing  her  expulsion,  a  riot  ensued 
and  considerable  violence.  Coming  out  of  the 
meeting-house,  I  heard  of  the  "  egg-shell"  from  this 
quarter,  a  woman  exclaiming  at  the  top  of  her  voice, 
''He  had  better  go  home  and  suck  his  mammy." 
Several  were  fighting,  and  among  the  rest  was  the 
poor  crazy  husband  fighting  his  father.  I  recog- 
nized several  members  of  the  Church  among  those 
who  if  not  actually  fighting  were  ready  for  it,  and 
profanely  boisterous.  And  this  sad  aftair  helped 
me  niuch.  The  "egg-shell,"  and  "sucking  my 
mammy,"  from  the  lips  of  a  vulgar  woman,  changed 
entirely  the  character  of  my  fancied  disqualifi- 
cation for  the  work  I  was  engaged  in  ;  while  I  knew 
that  in  that  instance,  at  least,  my  duty  had  been 
well  and  rightfully  done ;  and  that  the  imputation 
came  from  none  of  the  Lord's  prophets,  but  one  of 
those  who  were  of  the  synagogue  of  Satan.  It 
served  me  also  another  purpose.  It  roused  me  from 
a  constant  brooding  over  my  unworthiness ;  as  it 
furnished  a  new  subject  for  Jtny  mind  to  act  on,  of 
sufficient  interest  to  engage  it  fully.  "What  was  to 
be  done,  when  I  should  come  to  Carter's  meeting- 
house on  my  next  round,  to  reduce  this  confusion 
to  the  order  of  the  gospel,  became  the  question, 
instead  of  what  I  was  to  do  with  myself.  At  the 
time,  there  was  a  very  large  congregation  assem- 
bled as  if  for  some  uncommon  cause;  but"! preached 
on  the  truth  and  necessity  of  conversion,  as  if 
nothing  unusual  had  taken  place.    After  sermon,  I 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


105 


made  the  usual  appointment  to  meet  the  society 
apart  from  the  congregation,  and  told  them  that  I 
felt  a  special  solicitude  to  have  every  ohe  remain, 
for  the  society  meeting  whose  name  had  been  left 
in  the  church-book  at  my  last  appointment.  I  knew, 
and  it  was  known  to  them,  that  some  unhappy 
things  had  transpired.  Several  weeks  had  since 
passed,  there  had  been  time  for  reflection,  and  I 
earnestly  begged  them  all  to  remain.  They  all  did 
remain ;  and  after  opening  the  meeting  with  singing 
and  prayer,  I  took  the  class-paper,  and  calling  the 
first  name  on  the  list,  instead  of  addressing  the 
iridividual,  as  usual,  with  some  question  about  the 
state  of  his  soul,  I  asked  of  the  rest  if  there  was  any 
thing  against  him ;  telling  them,  at  the  same  time, 
that,  in  view  of  what  had  passed  among  them  four 
weeks  before,  and  possibly  other  things  since,  I  was 
deeply  concerned  to  have  them  in  peace  in  order  to 
the  blessi'ng  of  God  upon  them.  Peace  we  must 
have,  or,  in  the  absence  of  it,  a  curse  from  the  Lord 
instead  of  a  blessing.  And  I  adjured  them,  if  any 
one  knew  aught  against  the  brother  named,  he  or 
she  should  make  it  known.  They  need  hot  state 
what  was  the  objection  just  then ;  we  would  inquire 
about  it  afterwards ;  but  only  say  there  is  something 
against  him.  If  there  was  nothing  against  him, 
they  might  keep  their  peace.  I  should  proceed  to 
call  the  whole  list  in  the  same  manner,  for  the  same 
purpose,  that  it  might  be  known,  who  was  without 
blame  among  them ;  and  I  warned  them  that  if  at 
any  time  there  should  arise  any  strife  or  quarrel 
5*  ■  ^ 


106 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


between  any  of  them  on  account  of  any  thing 
which  had  then  transpired,  and  of  which  complaint 
being  then  called  for  none  was  made,  the  person 
originating  it  should  be  held  guilty  of  disturbing 
the  peace  of  the  Church,  and  be  accordingly  brought 
to  trial.  If  either  of  them  knew  aught  against  a 
brother  or  sister  to  interrupt  their  peace  and  fel- 
lowship, they  should  then  make  it  known,  by  only 
saying  one  word  :  that  was,  there  is  something  (no 
matter  what)  against  that  brother  or  sister.  At 
that  moment  I  felt  that,  for  once,  the  boy  was  a 
man.  I  had  the  bull  by  the  horns  and  was  able  to 
manage  him.  God  had  heard  my  prayers,  directqd 
my  mind  aright,  and  given  me  strength  and  courage. 
Having  gone  through  the  list,  I  had  gotten  a  com- 
mittee of  persons  to  whom  no  one  might  object, -for 
the  trial  of  all  the  rest ;  and  before  the  sun  went 
down  we  had  finished  our  work,  with  the  expulsion 
of  not  more  than  two  persons. 

There  are  and  ought  to  be  exceptions  to  any  gen- 
eral rule.  The  evil  is,  (and  it  is  a  great  abuse  of 
a  just  principle,)  when  the  exception  is  plead  as  a 
precedent,  and  put  in  the  place  of  the  rule  itself 
for  an  ordinary  or  not  so  extraordinary  a  case.  I 
had  seen  at  the  time  referred  to,  a  member  of  the 
-Church,  and  a  clever  man,  with  his  coat  thrown  off 
as  if  for  a  fight;  and  he  did  fight;  and  yet  we  did 
not  expel  him.  The  melee  in  which  he  saw  his 
brother  fighting  his  father,  had  surprised  him  into 
the  transgression;  from  which  he  quickly  withdrew, 
and  betook  himself  in  agony  to  prayer.    And  the 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


107 


testimony  was,  that  for  more  than  two  days  and 
nights  he  neither  ate  nor  drank,  but  upbraided  him- 
self as  one  of  the  worst  of  offenders.  He  then 
found  peace,  and  at  the  time  of  this  general  trial 
Tvas  exceeding  happy,  saying,  "  Expel  me,  brethren, 
for  the  sake  of  the  cau^e,  but  let  me  join  agaiits^ 
And  what  would  it  have  been  to  have  expelled  him, 
and  then  taken  him  back  again  ?  Or  would  it  have 
been  right  to  treat  him  as  another  ought  to  have 
been  treated  ? 

•  Some  time  before  this  I  had  taken  a  new  place 
into  the  circuit,  on  the  eastern  side  of  it,  called 
Shaffner's;  at  which  my  preaching  .was  much 
blessed,  and  a  society  raised,  among  a  plain  but 
very  worthy  people  who  had  never  before  heard 
Methodist  preaching.  And  about  the  same,  time 
the  large  and  well-established  society  at  McWhor- 
ter's  meeting-house,  in  Mecklenburg  county,  'N,  C, 
began  to  be  favored  with  refreshing  seasons,  and 
an  increase  of  members.  At  several  other  places, 
also,  good  was  evidently  done  ;  so  that  by  the  time 
of  my  second  Quarterly  Meeting,  I  was  enabled  to 
discover  that  my  extreme  discouragement  was  owing 
to  temptation,  and  not  that  I  had  obtruded  myself 
uncalled  into  the  ministry.  Afterwards  to  the  close 
of  the  year,  there  was  no  place  where  iny  ministry 
was  more  favored  than  at  Carter's  meeting-house, 
and,  except  perhaps  McWhorter's,  none  where  I  had 
larger  or  more  attentive  congregations. 

In  July  of  this  year,  (I  think  it  was,)  we  had  an- 
other camp-meeting,  at  Rembert's  in  Santee  Cir- 


108  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

cuit;  and  I  was  permitted  to  attend  it.  It  waa 
lield  at  the  same  place  as  those  of  the  previous 
year,  and  was  of  the  same  character,  both  for  the 
great  numbers  of  people,  white  and  colored,  who  - 
attended  it,  and  the  powerful  influence  of  the 
gospel  among  them.  Perhaps  there  is  no  spot  in 
Carolina,  if  in  any  other  State,  so  remarkable  for 
the  number  of  persons  converted  at  its  camp- 
meetings  as  this  one.  It  was  on  the  land  of  that 
old  disciple,  Henry  Young,  and  I  remember  hear- 
ing him  say  that  he  had  known  of  more  than  five 
hundred  persons  converted  there,  from  1808  to 
1815,  inclusive.  But  I  mentioned  this  camp- 
ineeting  for  a  recollection  that  on  my  return  from 
it  to  my  circuit,  I  lost  the  only  appointment  which 
I  ever  did  lose  on  any  circuit  on  account  of  incle- 
ment weather.  I  was  at  my  uncle's,  and  fond  as  I 
was  to  be  there,  I  suffered  myself  to  be  persuaded 
to  remain  a  da}^ ;  as  by  setting  out  the  next  morn- 
ing at  daylight  I  might  reach  the  place  of  preach- 
ing by  riding  twenty-five  miles  before  the  hour. 
My  good  aunt  had  my  breakfast  ready  before  it 
was  day,  but  it  was  raining  extremely  hard,  and 
"wait"  became  the  word.  I  waited  till  past  any 
practicable  hour  for  the  ride,  and  the  weather  was  ^ 
still  no  better ;  but  then  it  cleared  off,  and  my  con- 
gregation went  to  meeting  without  finding  me. 
Many  a  time  afterwards  the  recollection  of  this  in- 
cident decided  me  to  go  when  there  was  little  or 
no  prospect  of  finding  any  one  to  preach  to ;  as  I 
never  found  any  weather  so  uncomfortable  as  I 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


109 


had  been  taught  in  this  instance  my  feelings  must 
be  if  I  disappointed  a  congregation.  And  having 
written  this  desultory  paragraph,  I  will  add  an- 
other, which  may  serve  for  a  comparison  of  the 
past  with  the  present  with  respect  to  an  important 
point  embraced  in  the  bounds  of  my  circuit,  though 
not  then  a  preaching-place. 

A  young  lawyer  of  my  acquaintance  had  settled 
himself  (though  it  proved  not  to  be  permanent)  at 
Lancaster  Court-house,  an-d  came  to  my  appointment 
at  Camp  creek,  to  get  me  to  take  the  village  into 
my  round.  An  appointment  was  made  for  preach- 
ing there,  and  on  the  day  appointed  I  was  early  at 
the  village.  ,  But  it  happened  to  be  sale-day ;  the 
court-house  yard  was  well  feathered  with  carts  re- 
tailing cakes  and  cider,  and  probably  peach-brandy 
and  whisky,  and  the  customers  were  too  much 
engrossed  with  these  good  things  to  allow  of  any 
thing  better.  Preaching  was  postponed  till  night, 
when  it  was  thought  the  sober  ones  would  attend, 
and  the  drunken  ones  be  gone  home.  The  text 
was,  (]^um.  xxii.  38,)  "And  Balaam  said  untoBalak, 
Lo,  I  am  come  unto  thee :  have  I  now  any  power  at 
all  to  say  any  thing  ?  The  word  that  God  putteth 
in  my  mouth,  that  shall  I  speak."  And  as  I  was 
saying  something  about  Balaam  and  Balak  which 
I  thought  suitable,  some  one  rose  up  in  the  congre- 
gation, and  stepping  a  little  forward,  cursed  me 
with  a  loud^  angry ,  voice,  and  bade  me  quit  that 
gibberish  and  go  to  my  text.  ISTobody  clapped 
him,  and  nobody  reproved  him,  but  it  excited  a 


110  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

general  titter.  I  did  as  I  was  bidden,  but  to  no 
better  purpose ;  he  came  a  little  nearer,  and  swore 
that  he  could  preach  better  than  that  himself,  say- 
ing, "JSTow,.  Mr.,  jist  give  me  them  thar  books,  and 
you'll*  see."  This  appeared  exceeding  funny,  and 
of  course  the  titter  was  renewed  with  increase. 
And  a.  third  time  he  swore  lustily  that  he  could 
beat  me  a'preaching  all  hollow,  and  if  he  were  in 
my  place  he  would  go  home  and  never  try  again. 
I  did,  however,  try  it  once  mope,  and  only  once 
more  at  that  place.  And  then,  as  a  set-off  to  the 
previous  outrage,  the  sheriff  of  the  district  fixed  a 
dancing-party  for  the  night,  in  special  honor,  as  I 
was  told,  of  the  young  preacher ;  and  I  was  invited, 
(in  earnest,)  to  attend  it.  That  was  the  Lancaster 
Court-house  of  1809 ;  and  as  I  was  to  go  by  the 
Discipline  in  every  thing,  I  gave  it  up  under  the 
rule  of  section  xiv.,  answer  to  question  1.  I  had 
no  lack  of  preaching-places. 

The  latter  part  of  the  year  passed  off  without 
any  thing  remarkable  more  than  is  usually  met 
with.  My  old  friend  J.,  whose  unfortunate  auster- 
ity had  been  at  first  so  injurious  to  me,  had  become 
one  of  my  kindest  friends,  and  the  most  reliable 
of  my  advisers  in  all'  cases  of  difficulty.  Every- 
where I  was  treated  with  affection ;  and  at  most 
places  I  had  brothers  and  sisters  whom  I  loved  as 
if  I  had  been  born  with  them.  And  these  were 
the  great  means  of  my  deliverance  from  the  soi-e 
temptations  of  the  past  time :  the  fruit  which 
it  pleased  God  to  give  me  of  my  labors,  the 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


Ill 


affectionate  confidence  of  the  people,  and  my  love 
fpr  tliem. 

At  the  close  of  the  year,  Bishop  Asbury  passed 
through  ray  circuit  on  his  way  to  Conference;  and 
it  was  arranged  for  nuQ  to  meet  him  at  Waxaws, 
(General  Jackson's  birthplace,)  and  attend  him 
along  a  somewhat  circuitous  route  to  Camden. 
I  met  him  at  the  house  of  that  most  estimable 
man  and  worthy  local  preacher,  Robert  Han- 
cock, who  had  been  more  'than  a  friend  to  me, 
even  a  father,  from  the  beginning.  The  Bishop 
was  then  accompanied  by  the  Rev.  Henry  Boehm 
as  his  travelling  companion ;  so  long  afterwards 
known  in  the  Philadelphia  Conference  as  one  of 
the  purest  and  best  of  Methodist  ministers,  and 
whose  society  I  found  to  be  as  "the  dew  of  Her- 
mon."  This  was  the  last  of  my  itinerant  year  on 
"Wateree  Circuit ;  and  as  I  have  had  quite  enough 
of  the  disagreeable  in  my  account  of  it,  I  will  end 
the  chapter  (perhaps  more  to  your  liking)  with 
an  anecdote  of  my  first  night  and  last  night  on  this 
trip  with  the  Bishop.  I ,  met  him  when  a  heavy 
snow  had  just  fallen,  and  the  north-west  winii 
blowing  hard  made  it  extremely  cold.  The  snow 
•had-  not  been  expected,  and  our  host  was  out  of 
wood ;  so  that  we  had  to  use  what  had  been  picked 
up  from  under  the  snow,  and  was  damp  and  in- 
combustible. Our  bed-room  was  a  loft,  with  a  fire- 
place to  it  and  plenty,  of  wood ;  but  how  to  make 
the  wood  burn  was  the  question.  I  had  been  at 
work  blowing  and  blowing,  long  before  bedtime, 


112  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

till,  to  my  mortification,  the  aged  Bishop  came  up, 
and  there  was  still  no  fire  to  warm  him.  "  O 
Billy,  sugar,"  said  he,  as  he  approached  the  fire- 
place, "never  mind  it;  give  it  up:  we  will  get 
warm  in  bed."  And  then  stepping  to  his  bed,  as 
if  to  ascertain  the  certainty  of  it,  and  lifting  the 
bedclothes,  he  continued,  "Yes,  , yes,  give  it  up, 
sugar,  blankets  a  plenty."  So  I  gave  it  up,  think- 
ing the  play  of  my  pretty  strong  lungs  might  dis- 
turb his  devotions,  for  he  was  instantly  on  his 
knees.  Well,  thought  I,  this  is  too  bad.  But  how 
for  the  morning  ?  Bishop  Asbury  rises  at  four — 
two  hours  before  day — and  what  shall  I  do  for  a 
fire  then  ?  'No  lightwood,  and  nothing  dry.  But  it 
occurred  to  me  that  the  coals  put  in  the  midst  of 
the  simmering  wood  might  dry  it  sufficiently  to 
keep  fire  and  prepare  it  for  kindling  in  the  morn- 
ing ;  so  I  gave  it  up.  But  then,  how  might  I  be 
sure  of  waking  early  enough  to  kindle  a  fire  at  four" 
o'clock  ?  My  usual  hour  had  been  six.  And  to  meet 
this  difficulty,  I  concluded  to  wrap  myself  in  my 
overcoat,  and  lie  on  the  bed  without  using  the 
bedclothes.  In  this  predicament  I  was  not  likely 
to  oversleep  myself  on  so  cold  a  night ;  but,  there 
might  be  danger  of  my  not  knowing  what  hour  it 
was  when  I  happened  to  awake,  l^ap  after  nap 
was  dreamed  away,  as  I  lay  shivering  in  the  cold, 
till  I  thought  it  must  be  four  o'clock;  and  then 
creeping  softly  to  the  chimney  and  applying  the 
breath  of  my  live  bellows,  as  I  held  my  watch  to 
the  reluctant  coals  to  see  the  hour,  I  had  just  made 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


113 


it,  out,  when  the  same  soft  accents  saluted  me, 
"Go  to  bed,  sugar^  it  is  hardly  three  o'clock  yet." 
This  may  do  for  that  first  night;  and  the  last  was  as 
follows :  It  had  ra^ined  heavily  through  the  night, 
and  we  slept  near  enough  the  shingles  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  composing  power  of  its  pattering  upon 
them.  It  was  past  four  o'clock,  and  the  Bishop 
was  awake,  but  Billy  sugar"  lay  fast  asleep.  So 
he  whispered  to  Brother  Boehni  not  to  disturb 
me,  and  the  fire  was  made,  they  were  dressed,  had 
had  their  devotions,  and  were  at  their  books,  be- 
fore I  was  awake.  This  seemed  shockingly  out  of 
order ;  and  my  confusion  was  complete,  as,  waking 
and  springing  out  of  bed,  I  saw  them  sitting  be- 
fore a  blazing  fire.  I  could  scarcely  say  good 
morning,  and  the  Bishop,  as  if  he  might  have  been 
offended  at  my  neglect,  affected  not  to  hear  it. 
Boehm,  who  knew  him  better,  smiled  pleasantly, 
as  I  whispered  in  his  ear.  Why  didn't  you  wake 
me  ?  The  Bishop  seemed  to  hear  this,  and  closing 
his  book,  and  turning  to  me  with  a  look  of  down- 
right mischief,  had  an  anecdote  for  me.  "I  was 
travelling,"  said  he,  "quite  lately,  and  came  to  a 
circuit  where  we  had  one  of  our  good  boys.  0,  he 
was  so  good !  and  the  weather  -^as  as  cold  as  it 
was  the  other  night  at  brother  Hancock's  ;  and  as 
I  was  Bishop  Asbury,  he  got  up  in  the  bitter  cold 
at  three  o'clock  to  make  a  fire  for  me.  And  what 
do  you  think?  He  slept  last  night  till  six."  And 
he  tickled  at  it  as  if  he  might  have  been  a  boy 
himself.    And  this  was  that  Bishop  Asbury  whom 


114  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS.' 

I  have  heard  called  austere:  a  man,  confessedly, 
who  never  shed  tears,  and  who  seldom  laughed, 
but  whose  sympathies  were,  nevertheless,  as  soft  as 
a  sanctified  spirit  might  possess. 

The  time  of  Conference  (December,  1809)  was 
spent  at  home,  and  in  visiting  my  sister  and  uncle, 
with  great  satisfaction.  And  at  the  first  intelli- 
gence I  Was  ready  to  be  ofi"  to  my  next  circuit,  which 
was  Pee  Dee,  (comprehending  the  present  Black 
Kiver  and  Darlington  Circuits,)  stretching  from  the 
neighborhood  of  Georgetown  upward  through  Wil- 
liamsburg and  a  part  of  Sumter  District,  to  a  point 
on  Lynche's  creek  about  opposite  to  Darlington 
Court-house,  thence  across  that  creek  to  a  short 
distance  above  a  smaller  one  called  the  Gully,  and 
dowjiward  by  Darlington  Court-house  and  Jeffers's 
creek,  so  as  to  include  all  of  that  part  of  the 
country  Ijing  on  the  west  side  of  Pee  Dee  river 
and  the  route  just  described.  On  this  circuit  I  had 
for  my  colleague  the  Rev.  Thomas  D.  Glenn,  who  was 
in  charge.  My  recollections  supply  little  concerning' 
myself  for  the  six  months  that  I  was  continued  on 
it,  more  than  the  common  routine  of  travelling, 
preaching,  and  meeting  the  classes.  It  was  in  this 
circuit,  however,  that  my  first  wife  lived,  then 
fifteen  years  old,  but  looking  younger  than  h^r  age. 
And,  although  I  entertained  not  the  most  distant 
idea  of  marriage,  and  she  was  by  no  means  grown, 
I  was  conscious  of  an  attachment  to  her  which 
must  have  overcome  my  prudence  (with  her  con- 
sent) had  she  been  a  little  older.    I  say  prudence, 


AUTOBIOGHAPHY. 


115 


for  in  those  days  of  long  rides  and  little  quarterage,' 
Avitli .  no  allowance '  for  family  expenses,  it  was 
deemed  vastly  imprudent  for  a  young  preacher  to 
marry,  sliould  he  even  get  an  angel  for  his  wife. 
Hiding,  and  preaching,  and  meeting  class,  then,  I 
Went  round  the  circuit  till  the  second  Quar- 
terly Meeting,  after  such  a  common  fashion  as  to 
furnish  nothing  for  remark,  except ,  a  dry  story 
about  a  witch,  and  perhaps  one  about  losing  my 
suspenders.  No,  it  was  here  that  I  learned  by  ex- 
perience that  it  was  improper  for  a  preacher  on 
such  a  circuit  to,  prescribe  to  himself  certain  stated 
days  weekly  to  be  kept  as  fast-days.  .  I  had  pro- 
posed to  myself  to  observe  strictly  every;  Friday  as 
a  fast-day,  eating  nothing  till  near  night,  and  every 
Wednesday  as  a  day  of  abstinence,  eating  lightly 
only  of  vegetables,  ^  On  one  Wednesday  I  had  to 
take  this  light  breakfast  of  a  bit  of  bread  and  a  cup 
of  coffee  at  the  house  of  my  well-remembered  old 
friend,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Humphries,  on  Jeffers's 
creek,  and  ride  twenty-two  miles  to  preach  and 
meet  the  class,  and  afterwards  twelve  miles  farther 
to  my  stopping-place,  without  food.  Thursday  I 
rode  not  quite  so  far,  preached  and  met  class. 
And  Friday,  my  absolute  fast-day,  I  rode  from 
fifteen  to  seventeen  miles  to  my  daily  work,  and 
fourteen  miles  afterwards.  This  was  repeated  but 
a  few  times  before  I  became  satisfied  that  it  was 
wrong,  and  that  the  duty  of  fasting  ceased  to  be  a 
duty  when  one  could  not  rest.  I  fear  that  I  may 
have  erred  much  oftener  since  on  the  other  extreme, 


116  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


and  excused  myself  from  fasting  when  it  ought  not 
to  have  been  neglected.  And  I  will  venture  the 
remark  as  a  general  one  concerning  this  duty  as 
observed  by  the  Methodists  then  and  now :  if  we 
were  then  too  strict,  have  we  not  since  become  too 
lax? 

But  the  story  of  the  witch :  I  had  preached  and 
held  class  at  the  Gully,  (I  dare  say  the  witches  have 
all  disappeared  from  there  long  ago,)  and  was  come 
to  a  brother's  house  to  pass  the  night,  when  I  asked 
him  who  that  singular-looking  old  lady  was  who 
sat  just  before  the  pulpit  during  class,  and  had  not 
her  name  on  the  class-paper.  "0,"  said  he,  "she 
is  the  old  witch!"  "Witch?  And  if  she  is  a 
witch,  why  do  you  suffer  her  to  stay  in  class?" 
'*  Suffer  her!  why,  we  are  afraid  of  her,  and  if  you 
knew  how  much  mischief  she  had  done,  you  would 
be  afraid  of  her  too."  And  he  went  on  to  tell  of 
the  poor  women's  cows  she  had  shot  with  hair-balls, 
and  how  with  a  single  hair-ball,  or  a  great  many  of 
them  fired  at  once,  she  had  killed  in  a  moment 
every  fowl  in  the  yard  of  some  poor  woman  whom 
she  had  a  grudge  against.  The  story  was  long 
enough  to  allow  me  time  to  recollect  myself,  and  I 
only  answered  that  she  must  be  too  bad  to  stay  in 
class,  at  any  rate.  On  my  next  round,  seeing  the 
same  person  on  the  same  seat,  after  preaching  I 
repeated  the  rule,  "At  eveiy  other  meeting  of  the 
class  in  every  place,  let  no  stranger  be  admitted;" 
and  remarked  that  as  no  such  restriction  had  been 
observed  on  my  last  round,  I  should  observe  it  then. 


A  U  T  0  B  I  0  G  E  A  P  H  Y. 


117 


^N'o  stranger,  meaning  no  one  not  a  member  of  the 
Church,  could  be  allowed  to  stay  in  during  the 
class-meeting  which  we  were  then  going-  to  hold, 
^  '  and  that  if  there  might  be  any  one  present  who 
wished  to  join  the  Church,  and  so  secure  the  right 
of  being  present  at  all  our  meetings,  such  person 
would  please  come  forward  and  join  the  Church. 
The  old  woman  looked  as  if  she  might  have  been 
struck  with  her  hair-ball  herself,  and  dropped  her 
head,  as  if  to  conceal'  her  face  behind  the  frontis- 
piece of  her  long  black  bonnet.  "Ma'am,"  I 
asked  her,  '^are  you  a  member  of  our  Church?" 
But  she  did  not  notice  the  question.  "You, 
ma'am,"  I  repeated,  "are  you  a  member  of  the 
Church  ?  Please  tell  me,  for  if  you  are  not,  you 
have  to  join  or  go  out."  There,  was  no  mistaking 
as  to  who  w^as  meant,  and  she  shook  herself  with  a 
strange  wriggling  motion,  not  unlike  a  turkey  in 
the  sand,  muttering  something  like  boo,  boo,  boo, 
woo,  woo,  woo.  "  You  won't  be  offended  with  me, 
ma'am,  for  I  must  do  my  duty,  and  if  you  won't 
go  out  I  must  lead  you  out."  The  wriggle  seemed 
almost  a  spasm,  and  the  boo,  boo,  woO,  woo, 
rumbled  in  her  throat  as  if  she  might  be  strangling. 
"  Shall  I  have  to  lead  you  out,  ma'am,  and  you  a 
lady  too?"  Boo,  boo,  woo,  woo,  and  up  she  got 
and  was  off,  shaking  and  tossing  herself,  as  she 
went,  most  ridiculously.  But  I  had  spoiled  our 
class-meeting.  The  terror  of  her  anger  was  upon 
us,  and  what  would  she  not  do,  poor  old  woman  ? 
My  good  but  weak  brother  told  me  that  evening  he 


118    -       LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

thought  me  very  bold  for  such  a  young  man.  "Bold, 
because  I  would  not  let  a  poor  befooled  old  woman 
scare  me?"  "But  she  was  a  witch!"  "Then  let 
her  shoot  my  horse."  "Ah,"  said  he,  "I  don't 
know  if  you  will  ever  get  him  round  here  again." 
"I  dare  say,"  said  I,  "she  would  kill  him  if  she 
could,  but  she  can't,  and  if  she  don't  kill  him  she 
is  no  witch." 

-But  about  the  suspenders  :  It  was  not  far  from 
the  Gully  (I  think  some  eight  or  ten  miles)  that  I 
lost  my  suspenders.  And  the  way  of  it  was  this  : 
Brother  D.,  a  weak  but  eminently  pious  man,  had 
conducted  me  home  mth  him  from  a  very  refresh- 
ing meeting ;  and  having  retired  to  a  room  for 
secret  prayer,  as  he  came  out  with  a  beaming  coun- 
tenance, exceeding  happy,  "0,  Brother  Capers," 
he  exclaimed,  "how  I  love  you!  I  love  to  hear 
you  preach,  I  love  to  hear  you  meet  class,  I  love 
you  anyhow,  but  0,  them  gallowses !  Won't  you 
pull  them  off?"  "Pull  them  off,  my  brother,  for 
what?"  "0,"  said  he,  "they  make  you  look  so 
worldly ;  and  I  know  you  ain't  worldly  neither, 
but  do  pull  them  off."  So  I  pulled  them  off,  and 
it  was  several  years  before  I  put  them  on  again. 

At  our  second  Quarterly  Meeting,  which  was 
early  in  June,  (1810,)  I  was  removed  from  this  cir- 
cuit to  the  town  of  Fayetteville,  is"orth  Carolina. 
The  case  was  urgent,  and  my  removal  sudden ;  so 
that  I  went  immediately  after  the  Quarterly  Meeting, 
and  on  the  13th  day  of  the  month  was  in  my  new 
charge.    "Wliat  had  been  my  chief  concern  the  year 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


119 


before  in  Wateree  Circuit,  was  now  become  a 
secondary  matter,  and  not  how  to  administer  the 
Discipline,  but  how  to  serve  the  people  from  the 
pulpit,  was  now  the  point  of  principal  importance, 
^'or  the  administration  of  Discipline,  as  it  concerned 
my  office  as  preacher  in  charge,  the  rules  were  few  - 
and  plain  ;  and  if  in  any  thing  I  might  be  doubtful, 
I  was  sure  to  have  reliable  advisers.  But  how  was 
I  to  preach  four  sermons  a  week  to  the  same  con- 
gregation without  repetition?  And  how  could  I 
expect  to  keep  a  congregation  who  should  be  served 
with  repetitions  of  the  same  matter,  which,  at  the 
first  hearing,  might  be  only  .tolerable  ?  The  first 
thing  that  struck  me  as  necessary  was,  that  I  should 
keep  strictly  to  the  text,  and  never  bring  in  matter 
which  did  not  directly  spring  from  it.  There  must 
be  matter  enough  in  any  text  I  should  take  to  make 
a  sermon,  and  when  I  had  delivered  that,  and  such 
exhortation  as  it  naturally  furnished,  I  must  be 
done.  Then  I  must  be  always  mindful  that  I  had 
to  preach,  and  conduct  my  reading  and  thinking 
so  as  to  be  on  the  alert  to  find  preaching-matter. 
But  still  I  found  myself  worried  with  the  appre- 
hension of  repeating  the  same  thing  over  again,  as 
it  seemed  impossible  to  recollect  at  any  one  time 
all  that  I  had  been  preaching  previously.  And  it 
struck  me  that,  like  the  promiscuous  passing 
of  carriages  along  a  street  where  no  one  ever  thinks 
of  keeping  or  avoiding  tracks,  compared  to  the 
market  roads,  which,  though  less  travelled,  are . 
much  more  rutted,  I  might  probably  gain  my  ob- 


120  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

ject  more  easily  by  forgetting  than  by  remembering 
previous  discourses,  if,  indeed,  I  might  gain  it  at 
all.  And  I  determined  to  try,  in  addition  to  the 
two  preceding  rules,  the  effect  it  might  have  for 
me  to  put  out  the  tracks  as  soon  as  I  should  make 
them,  by  not  recollecting  any  thing  I  had  preached, 
but  preaching  each  time  as  if  I  had  not  done  so 
before.  I  mention  this,  not  to  recommend  it  to 
others,  but  because  of  its  influence  over  my  own 
practice ;  and  the  more,  as  the  rule  adopted  then 
has  generally  governed  me  since.  But  I  am  sure 
by  experience  that  the  third  can  only  be  allow- 
able in  connection  with  the  first  and  second  rule. 
For  although  while  preaching  was  my  sole  business 
I  never  doubted  that  my  plan  was  the  best  for  me, 
I  have  not  been  so  confident  of  it  since  I  have  been 
charged  with  other  duties  to  a  degree  which  has 
much  diverted  my  attention  from  it.  To  be  an  off"- 
at-hand  preacher  requires  indispensably  for  one  to 
keep  his  work  always  in  mind,  and  so  actively  as 
to  press  into  his  service  for  the  pulpit  whatever 
may  be  desirable  for  it.  And  if  one  would  have 
new  matter  in  every  discourse,  he  must  look  for  it 
in  what  has  come  under  his  observation  in  books, 
in  men,  in  every  thing  he  has  met  \\ith  since  he 
preached  last.  But,  above  all  things  else,  it  is  by 
studying  the  Scriptures  with  an  active  preaching 
mind,  that  we  may  bring  forth  to  effect  things  new 
and  old  in  all  our  pulpit  efforts. 

For  the  performance  of  pastoral  duty,  I  visited 
each  family  of  my  charge  once  a  week,  appropriat- 


autobioghApiiy. 


121 


iiig  tlie  time  from  9  o'clock  A.  M.  to  1  P.  M.  for 
five  days  of  the  week  to  this  purpose,  and  allowing 
a  half-hour  to  each  house  I  visited.  The  names  of 
the  families  were  appropriated  to  each  day,  and 
with  which  one  to  begin  and  end  for  the  day,  so 
that  each  family  knew  within  a  few  minutes  when 
to  expect  me.  I  considered  these  stated  visits  as 
so  many  appointments  which  I  might  not  disap- 
point, and  was  seldom  absent  at  the  time  when  I 
w'as  looked  for. 

In  this  pleasant  town,  with  such  people  as  the 
Blakes,  Coburn,  Lumsden,  Saltonstall,  McDonald, 
Thomas,  Eccles,  Price,  and  others^,  I  was  most 
.  agreeably  situated.  But  what  contributed  most  to 
my  happiness  as  regards  society,  was  the  uncom- 
mon attachment  to  each  other  which  subsisted 
between  that  most  pure-hearted  and  intelligent 
man,  the  Eev.  John  H.  Pearce,  and  myself.  He  was 
generally  considered  eccentric  and  enthusiastic. 
But  I  knew  him  as  he  knew  himself,  and  I  never 
discovered  any  eccentricity  in  him,  but  this :  that, 
being  a  bachelor,  he  wore  a  coarse  wool  hat  as  long 
as  he  could  keep  it  whole,  brogan  shoes,  and  clothes 
at  the  lowest  price,  that  he  might  save  every  penny 
in  his  power  for  the  poor ;  for  whom,  whoever  they 
might  be  of  virtuous  reputation,  he  felt  a  more 
lively  and  intense  sympathy  than  any  other  person 
whom  I  have  ever  known.  He  was  enthusiastic, 
as  a  matter  of  course ;  for  he  loved  the  Lord  his 
.  God  with  all  his  heart,  and  his  neighbor  as  him- 
self ;  which  the  world  and  half-fashioned  Christians 
6 


122  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

have  ever  held  to  be  the  height  of  enthusiasm.  I 
never  found  him  wanting  of  a  reason  of  the  hope 
that  was  in  him,  nor  of  his  conduct  in  any  matter, 
which  those  who  blamed  his  enthusiasm  and  eccen- 
tricity might  answer  from  the  Scriptures.  Love 
seemed  to  be  his  universal  element,  gentleness  and 
meekness  the  forms  of  its  manifestation.  He  was 
originally  from  Rhode  Island,  had  been  well  bred, 
and  at  this  time  had  two  brothers,  Oliver  and  IsTa-' 
thanael,  who  occupied  first  places  in  the  community 
as  to  wealth  and  worldly  respects.  John  had  been 
brought  up  to  the  profession  of  physic,  embraced 
deism  in  his  youth,  and  adopted  the  Epicurean 
morals ;  but  he  had  now  been  for  some  years  con- 
verted to  God,  and  was  such  an  example  of  unlim- 
ited self-devotion  as  I  doubt  if  I  have  ever  known 
exceeded,  if  equalled.  And  what  made  him  parti- 
cularly interesting  to  me  was  his  continually  happy 
spirit,  which  kept  his  countenance  ever  upward, 
ever  bright.  With  him,  it  was  impossible  for  me 
to  suffer  a  moment's  discouragement  about  any 
thing ;  and  such  was  our  mutual  attachment,  that 
we  were  never  apart  when  it  was  consistent  with 
duty  for  us  to  be  together. 

With  such  names  as  I  have  mentioned  above,  it 
should  seem  that  there  must  have  been  abun- 
dant means  for  the  support  of  the  ministry.  JSTo 
doubt  there  was;  and  no  doubt,  too,  that  if  the 
Church  had  been  well  organized  as  regards  fiscal 
affairs,  there  would  have  been  ample  accommoda- 
tions for  the  preacher,  without  having  him  to  board 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


123 


from  house  to  house  among  his  people.  But  the 
general  policy  of  the  Church  was,  to  have  an  un- 
married ministry  to,  suit  the  long  rides  to  the  scat- 
tered appointments  of  circuits  a  hundred  miles 
through ;  the  towns  were  not  yet  considered  as 
requiring  any  thing  materially  different  from  the 
circuits ;  and  except  the  parsonage-house  in  George- 
town, built  for  Mr.  Hammett  and  at  his  instance,  and 
a  poor  hull  of  a  house  in  Wilmington,  built  by  Mr. 
Meredith  for  his  use,  the  only  parsonage-house  in 
the  three  States  of  North  aad  South  Carolina  and 
Georgia  was  in  Charleston:  that  famous  old 
yellow  coop  which  stood  in  Bethel  churchyard; 
in  which,  when  that  very  great  man,  soul  and  body. 
Dr.  Olin,  was .  stationed  there,  he  could  not  stand 
upright  in  his  chamber.  But  why  build  parsonage- 
houses  for  single  men,  either  in  town  or  country? 
In  the  present  case,  it  would  have  been  regarded  a 
downright  evil ;  and  the  incumbent  now  to  be  pro- 
vided for  out  of  the  question,  there  were  too  many 
homes  for  the  preacher,  and  too  much  interest  felt 
at  each  of  them  to  have  him  there,  for  a  thought 
to  be  entertained  of  building  a  preacher' s-house. 
"Were  they  not  all  his  houses,  and  the  best  of  their 
accommodations  at  his  service  ?  '  For  the  six 
months  of  my  pastorate  in  Fayetteville,  I  lodged 
successively  with  brothers  Price,  Blake,  Coburn, 
and  Lumsden  :  four  instead  of  one,  (their  places 
being  convenient,)  oii  the  circuit  principle  of  alter- 
nating with  the  people ;  because,  if  the  preacher 
was  a  blessing,  they  should  share  it,  and  if  a  bur- 


124  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

den,  they  should  bear  it  among  them  severalh 
I  was  put  under  the  kindest  obligations  to  them, 
the  remembrance  of  which  is  more  than  pleasant ; 
particularly  those  most  excellent  men  and  their 
saintly  wives,  Isham  Blake  and  John  Coburn : 
fathers  and  mothers  were  they  indeed  to  me. 

But  the  most  remarkable  mail,  in  Fayetteville 
when  I  went  there,  and  who  died  during  my  stay, 
was  a  negro,  by  the  name  of  Henry  Evans.  I  say 
tfuc  most  remarkable  in  view  of  his  class  ;  and  I  call 
him  negro,  with  unfeigned  respect.  He  was  a  negro : 
that  is,  he  was  of  that  race,  without  any  admixture 
of  another.  The  name  simply  designates  the  race, 
and  it  is  vulgar  to  regard  it  with  opprobrium.  I 
have  known  and  loved  and  honored  not  a  few 
negroes  in  my  life,  who  were  probably  as  pure  of 
heart  as  Evans,  or  anybody  else.  Such  were  my 
old  friends,  Castile  Selby  and  John  Boquet,  of 
Charleston,  Will  Campbell  and  Harry  Myrick,  of 
Wilmington,  York  Cohen,  of  Savannah,  and  others 
I  might  name.  These  I  might  call  remarkable  for 
their  goodness.  But  I  use  the  word  in  a  broader 
sense  for  Henry  Evans,  who  was  confessedly  the 
father  of  the  Methodist  Church,  white  and  bl'ack, 
in  Fayetteville,  and  the  best  preacher  of  his  time 
in  that  quarter ;  and  who  was  so  reniarkable,  as  to 
have  become  the  greatest  curiosity  of  the  town; 
insomuch  that  distinguished  visitors  hardly  felt 
that  they  might  pass  a  Sunday  in  Fayetteville 
without  hearing  him  preach.  Evans  was  from 
Virginia ;  a  shoemaker  by  trade,  and,  I  think,  was 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


125 


born  free.  He  became  a  Christian  and  a  Methodist 
quite  young,  and  was  licensed  to  preach  in  Virginia. 
"While  yet  a  young  man,  be  determined  to  remove 
to  Charleston,  S.  C,  thinking  he  might  succeed 
best  there  at  his  trade.  But  having  reached  Fay- 
etteville  on  his  w^y  to  Charleston,  and  something 
detaining  him  for  a  few  days,  his  spirit  was  stirred 
at  perceiving  that  the  people  of  his  race  in  that 
town  were  wholly  given  to  profanity  and  lewdness, 
never  hearing  preaching  of  any  denomination,  and 
living  emphatically  without  hope  and  without  God 
in  the  world.  This  determined  him  to  etop  in 
Faj^etteville ;  and  he  began  to  preach  to  the  negroes, 
with*  great  effect.  The  town  council  interfered, 
and  nothing  in  his  power  could  prevail  with  them 
to  permit  him  to  preach.  He  then  withdrew  to  the 
sand-hills,  out  of  town,  and  held  meetings  in  the 
woods,  changing  his  appointments  from  place  to 
place.  'No  law  was  violated,  while  the  council  was 
effectually  eluded ;  and  so  the  opposition  passed 
into  the  hands  of  the  mob.  These  he  worried  out 
by  changing  his  appointments,  so  that  when  they 
went  to  work  their  will  upon  him,  he  was  preaching 
somewhere  else.  Meanwhile,  whatever  the  most 
honest  purpose  of  a  simple  heart  could  do  to  recon- 
cile his  enemies,  was  employed  by  him  for  that  end. 
He  eluded  no  one  in  private,  but  sought  opportu- 
nities to  explain  himself;  avowed  the  purity  of  his 
intentions  ;  and  even  begged  to  be  subjected  to  the 
scrutiny  of  any  surveillance  that  might  be  thought 
proper  to  prove  his  inoffensiveness ;  any  thing,  so 


126  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

that  lie  might  but  be  allowed  to  preach.  Happily 
for  him  and  the  cause  of  religion,  his  honest  coun- 

.    tenance  and  earnest  pleadings  were  soon  powerfully 
seconded  by  the  fruits  of  his  labors.    One  after 
another  began  to  suspect  their  servants  of  attend-, 
ing  his  preaching,  not  because  they  were  made 
worse,  but  wonderfully  better.     The  eftect  on  the  , 
public  morals  of  the  negroes,  too,  began  to  be  seen, 
particularly  as  regarded  their  habits  on  Sunday, 
and  drunkenness.    And  it  was  not  long  before  the 
mob  was  called  off  by  a  change  in  the  current  of  . 
opinion,  and  Evans  was  allowed  to  preach  in  town. 
At  that  time  there  was  not  a  single  church  edifice 
in  town,  and  but  one  congregation,  (Presbyterian,) 
who  worshipped  in  what  was  called  the  State-house, 
under  which  was  the  market ;  and  it  was  plainly 
Evans  or  nobody  to  preach  to  the  negroes.  ]S"ow, 
too,  of  the  mistresses  there  were  not  a  few,  and 
some  masters,  who  were  brought  to  think  that  the 
preaching  which  had  proved  so  beneficial  to  their 
servants  might  be  good  for  them  also ;  and  the 
famous  negro  preacher  had  some  whites  as  well  as  ^' 
blacks  to  hear  him.    Among  others,  and  who  were 
the  first  fruits,  were  my  old  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Lumsden,  Mrs.  Bowen,  (for  many  years  Preceptress 
of  the  Female  Academy,)  Mrs.  Malsby,  and,  I  think, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blake.   From  these  the  gracious  influ- 

,  ence  spread  to  others,  and  a  meeting-house  was 
built.  It  was  a  frame  of  wood,  weatherboarded 
only  on  the  outside  without  plastering,  about  fifty 
feet  long  by  thirty  feet  wide.     Seats,  distinctly 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


127 


separated,  were  at  first  appropriated  to  the  whites,  , 
near  the  pulpit.  But  Evans  had  already  become 
famous,  and  these  seats  were  insufficient.  Indeed, 
the  negroes  seemed  likely  to  lose  their  preacher, 
negro  though  he  was,  while  the  whites,  crowded 
out  .of  their  appropriate  seats,  took  possession  of 
those  in  the  rear.  Meanwhile  Evans  had  repre- 
sented to  the  preacher  of  Bladen.  Circuit  how  things 
were  going,  and  induced  him  to  take  his  meeting- 
house into  Xhe  circuit,  and  constitute  a  church 
.  there.  And  now,  there  was  no  longer  room  for  the 
negroes  in  the  house  when  Evans  preached;  and  . 
for  the  accommodation  of  both  classes,  the  weather- 
boards were  knocked  off  and  sheds  were  added  to 
the  house  on  either  side ;  the  whites  occupying  the 
whole  of  the  original  building,  and  the  negroes 
those  sheds  as  a  part  of  the  same  house.  Evans's 
dwelling  was  a  shed  at  the  pulpit  end  of  the 
church.  And  that  was  the  identical  state  of  the 
case  when  I  was  pastor.  Often  was  I  in  that  shed, 
and  much  to  my  edification.  I  have  known  not 
many  preachers  who  appeared  more  conversant 
with  Scripture  than'  Evans,  or  whose  conversa- 
tion was  more  instructive  as  to  the  things  of  God. 
He  seemed  always  deeply  impressed  with  the  re- 
sponsibility of  his  position ;  and  not  even  our  old 
ffiend  Castile  was  more  remarkable  for  his  humble 
and  deferential  deportment  towards  the  whites 
than  Evans  was.  l^or  would  he  allow  any  partiality 
of  his  friends  to  induce  him  to  vary  in  the  least 
degree  the  line  of  conduct  or  the  bearing  which 


128 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


he  had  prescribed  to  himself  in  this  respect ;  never 
speaking  to  a  white  man  but  with  his  hat  under 
his  arm ;  never  allowing  himself  to  be  seated  in 
their  houses ;  and  even  confining  himself  to  the 
kind  and  manner  of  dress  proper  for  negroes  in 
general,  . except  his  plain  black  coat  for  the  pulpit. 
"  The  whites  are  kind  to  me,  and  come  to  hear  me 
preach,"  he  would  say,  "but  I  belong  to  my  own 
sort,  and  must  not  spoil  them."  And  yet  Henry 
Evans  was  a  Boanerges;  and  in  his  duty  feared  not 
the  face  of  man. 

I  have  said  that  he  died  during  my  stay  in  Fay- 
etteville  this  year,  (1,810.)  The  death  of  such  a 
man  could  not  but  be  triumphant,  and  his  was  dis- 
tinguishingly  so.  I  did  not  witness  it,  but  was  with 
him  just  before  he  died  ;  and  as  he  appeared  to  me, 
triumph  should  express  but  partially  the  character 
of  his  feelings,  as  the  word  imports  exultation  at  a 
victor}',  or  at  most ,  the  victory  and  exultation  to- 
gether. It  seemed  to  me  as  if  the  victory  he  had  won 
was  no  longer  an  object,  but  rather  as  if  his  spirit, 
past  the  contemplation  of  triumphs  on  earth,  were  al- 
ready in  communion  with  heaven.  Yet  his  last  breath  ' 
was  drawn  in  the  act  of  pronouncing  1  Cor.  xv. 
57  :  "  Thanks  be  to  God,  which  giveth  us  the  victory 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  It  was  my 
practice  to  hold  a  meeting  with  the  blacks  in  the 
church  directly  after  morning  preaching  every 
Sunday.  And  on  the  Sunday  before  his  death, 
during  this  meeting,  the  little  door  between  his 
humble  shed  and  the  chancel  where  I  stood  was 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


129 


opened,  and  the  dying  man  entered  for  a  last  fare- 
well to  his  people.  He  was  almost  too  feeble  to 
stand  at  all,  hut  supporting  himself  by  the  railing 
of  the  chancel,  he  said:  "I  have  come  to  say  my 
last  word  to  you.  It  is  this :  I^one  but  Christ. 
Three  times  I  have  had  my  life  in  jeopardy  for 
preaching  the  gospel  to  you.  Three  times  I  have 
broken  the  ice  on  the  edge  of  the  water  and  swum 
across  the  Cape  Fear  to  preach  the  gospel  to  you. 
And  now,  if  in  my  last  hour  I  could  trust  to  that, 
or  to  any  thing  else  but  Christ  crucified,  for  my 
salvation,  all  should  be  lost,  and  my  soul  perish 
for  ever."  A  noble  testimony!  "Worthy,  not  of 
Evans  only,  but  St.  Paul.  His  funeral  at  the 
church  was  attended  by  a  greater  concourse  of 
persons  than  had  been  seen  on  any  funeral  occasion 
before.  The  whole  community  appeared  to  mourn 
his  death,  and  the  universal  feeling  seemed  to  be 
that  in  honoring  the  memory  of  Henry  Evans  we 
were  paying  a  tribute  to  virtue  and  religion.  He 
was  buried  under  the  chancel  of  the  church  of 
which  he  had  been  in  so  remarkable  a  manner  the 
founder. 

Looking  back  on  my  past  life,  I  know  no  single 
duty  which  I  might  suppose  myself  to  have  dis- 
charged in  measure  and  manner  as  I  ought  to  have 
done ;  and  if  some  bright  spots  appear  in  the  gen- 
eral shade,  and  there  were  instances  of  devotion 
seeming  to  answer  somewhat  to  my  obligations, 
they  may  not  be  relied  on  for  my  justification,  but 
5 


130 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPEES. 


bIiow  rather  by  contrast  how  mucli  more  has  been 
neglected  than  discharged. 

"Jesus,  thy  blood  and  righteousness 
My  beauty  are,  my  glorious  dress." 

I  have  often  been  struck  with  the  force  of  that 
particular  obligation  which  is  stated  in  the  office 
of  the  ordination  of  deacons:  "And  furthermore, 
it  is  his  office  to  search  for  the  sick,  poor,  and  im- 
potent, that  they  may  be  visited  and  relieved,"  and 
have  felt  painfully  how  deficient  I  have  been,  how 
much  less  than  my  duty  I  have  done.  The  winter 
was  coming  on  with  uncommon  severity,  and 
brother  Pearce,  who  seemed  to  live  for  the  poor, 
suggested  that  we  might  do  something  in  their 
behalf,  several  persons  whom  he  knew  being  with- 
out sufficient  clothing  or  blankets  to  keep  them 
comfortable,  or  even  more  than  preserve  them  from 
freezing  in  the  coming  cold  weather.  And  it  was 
agreed  on  between  us  that  we  would  ask  our  friends 
for  some  trifle  to  assist  us  in  this  charity.  I  pro- 
posed to  beg  the  money  if  he  would  appropriate  it, 
but  he  would  by  no  means  take  for  his  share  of  the 
service  the  luxury  of  applying  what  we  might  ob- 
tain, and  so  we  went  together  both  in  the  getting 
and  the  giving.  The  money  in  hand,  what  should 
we  buy  with  it?  And  he  advised  to  divide  it 
equally  to  blankets  and  coarse  woollens.  These 
were  purchased ;  and  the  next  thing,  of  course, 
was  to  distribute  them.  They  were  large  bundles, 
requiring  the  shoulder;  especially  the  blankets; 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


131 


and  he  shouldering  the  larger,  showed  me  an  ex- 
ample with  respect  to  the  smaller.  I  clutched  it 
under  my  arm,  and  oiF  we  went.  And  why  have 
I  not  since  spent  many  such  a  happy  day  as  that  ? 
I  remember  that  at  one  place,  the  house  of  an  ap- 
proved sister,  where  we  left  a  pair  of  large  Duifel 
blankets  and  several  yards  of  the  woollen  cloth, 
there  was  hut  one  whole  blanket  in  the  house, 
which  was  employed  as  a  wrapper  for  the  poor  man, 
who,  after  destroying  himself  by  intemperance,  had 
now  been  for  several  years  hopelessly  a  paralytic, 
requiring  more  of  his  wife's  attention  than  a  child 
might ;  while  for  their  subsistence,  and  that  of  two 
clever  little  boys  of  eight  and  ten  years  old,  she 
took  in  washing,  having  to  bring  her  fuel  on  her 
head,  with  the  assistance  of  the  little  boys,  a 
mile  and  a  half  from  the  woods.  But  how  could  a 
worthy  member  of  the  Church  be  suffered  to  en- 
dure such  distressing  poverty?  I  presume  just 
because  she  was  so  worthy  as  to  prefer  suffering  to 
'  complaining ;  and  as  she  was  always  looking  decent 
at  church  and  at  class,  and  those  who  should  have 
relieved  her  (and  would  have  done  so  had  they 
known)  were  occupied  with  their  own  business, 
her  wretchedness  was  not  suspected.  Brother 
Pearce  himself  had  no  idea  of  the  extremity  of  the 
case,  though  often  in  the  house,  till  that  day.  Yes, 
'•Hhe  sick,  poor,  and  impotent" — those  very  individ- 
uals of  them  who  have  most  need  of  assistance  and 
have  the  best  claims  for  it — may  live  near  by  us  and 
we  do  nothing  for  them,  only  because  we  do  not 


132 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


'■'search''  for  them,  and  they  are  backward  to  com- 
plain. 

Few  half  years  of  my  life  have  been  spent  more 
pleasantly  or  more  profitably  than  the  half  year  in 
Fayetteville.  Alas,  that  I  should  have  profited  no 
more  by  the  many  that  have  passed  on  to  the  judg- 
ment since  that  time ! 

At  the  close  of  the  year  I  attended  Conference 
for  the  first  time,  (Dec.  22,  1810,)  at  Columbia, 
South  Carolina.  The  sessions  were  held  in  the 
parlor  of  the  Hon.  (afterwards  Governor)  John  Tay- 
lor, who  being  at  Washington  City,  and  the  house 
unoccupied,  most  kindly  gave  the  use  of  it  for  this 
purpose.  In  my  day,  therefore,  the  time  has  been 
when  a  gentleman's  parlor  was  sufiacient  to  accom- 
modate a  session  of  the  South  Carolina  Conference ; 
and  that  the  time  too  when  there  was  no  other 
Conference  south  or  south-west  of  it :  no  Georgia, 
Florida,  Alabama,  Mississippi,  nor  Louisiana  Con- 
ference ;  but  all  the  travelling  preachers  south  of 
the  Cape  Fear  river  belonged  to  this  Conference. 
At  this  time  we  had  seventy-four  preachers  belong- 
ing to  the  Conference,  employed  on  thirty-nine 
circuits  and  stations,  of  which  twenty-four  belonged 
to  South  Carolina  and  that  part  of  North  Caro- 
lina lying  south  of  Cape  Fear  and  the  head-waters 
of  Yadkin;  fourteen  belonged  to  Georgia;  and 
there  were  two  preachers  employed  as  missionaries 
in  Alabama.  The  returns  gave  us  seventeen  thou- 
sand seven  hundred  and  eighty-eight  whites,  and 
eight  thousand  two  hundred  and  two  colored  mem- 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


138 


bers  of  our  communion  ;  and  in  all  the  Conferences 
together,  including  Canada,^  there  were  six  hundred 
and  fifty  preaehers  and  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
four  thousand  five  hundred  and  sixty  members.  I 
was  now  admitted  into  full  connection  with  the 
Conference  and  ordained  deacon. 

What  most  concerned  *me  at  this  Conference  was 
Bishop  Asbury's  appeal  to  the  preachers  to  induce 
them  to  ofl:er  themselves  for  the  work  in  the  South- 
west, which  lying  beyond  "the  wilderness,"  (as  the 
country  from  the  Ocmulgee  river  to  near  the 
Alabama  was  called,)  and  yet  another  wilderness 
of  the  Chickasaw  and  Choctaw  Indians  beyond 
that,  seemed  as  remote  and  inaccessible  as  Cali- 
fornia might  seem  at  present.  It  was  before  the 
dawn  of  the  day  of  steamboats,  and  not  So  much 
as  a  stagecoach  or  hack  passed  through  the  land.^ 
I  was  deeply  exercised  on  this  subject,  and  after 
passing  a  sleepless  night,  mostly  on  my  knees, 
called  on  my  faithful  friend  and  foster-father,  Gass- 
away,  for  counsel.  He  advised  me  to  open  my 
mind  to  the  Bishop  as  freely  as  I  had  done  to  him, 
and  leave  it  for  his  decision  whether  to  go  or  not  go. 
I  did  so  without  delay,  and  his  decision  was  un- 
hesitatingly against  it.  "Can't  send  you,  Billy, 
sugar,"  said  the  apostolic  man,  tenderly  embracing 
me  ;  "  you  won't  know  how  to  take  care  of  your- 
self." A  very  jdifierent  appointment  was  before 
me,  and  I  was  sent  to  Charleston. 

Perhaps  we  were  rather  cynical  in  those  days ; 
.  perhaps  we  are  so  still.    Certainly  we  had  no  high 


134  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

conceit  of  human  nature  in  tlie  mass;  and  we 
may  not  have  held  each  other  to  be  incorruptible. 
I  believe  our  jealousy  was  a  godly  one,  which, 
tliouo^h  sometimes  unfortunate  and  even  unwise,  if 
not  faulty,  meant  no  evil ;  and  that,  on  the  whole, 
it  was  safer  for  the  Church,  though  sometimes 
severe  to  individuals,  than  the  absence  of  it  might 
have  been.  Preachers  (at  least  the  younger  ones) 
were  not  often  together  for  a  few  days  without 
giving  each  other  a  proof  of  love  in  some  correc- 
tion. It  might  be  in  their  pronunciation  of  such 
or  such  a  word,  some  article  of  dress,  or  the  way 
the  hair  was  combed;  or  it  might.be  something 
more  serious,  touching  their  spirit  or  manners; 
so  that  we  were  always  watching  over  each  other, 
and,  as  I  believe,  for  good.  It  was  a  delicate  duty, 
but  we  deemed  ourselves  bound  to  the  discharge 
of  it,  on  the  principle  of  helping  each  other,  in 
view  of  our  acknowledged  imperfections,  the  sa- 
credness  of  our  work,  and  the  confidential  character 
of  our  relation  to  each  other.  But  this  good 
practice  was  liable  to  abuse  by  excess ;  and  with 
minds  unfortunately  constituted,  it  sometimes  led 
to  unpleasant  suspicions.  And  this  was  the  more 
likely  to  be  induced,  since  with  all  our  readiness  for 
correction,  we  studiously  avoided  any  word  of 
praise.  There  could  be  no  danger  of  being  too  . 
humble,  we  thought,  though  there  might  be  of  the 
opposite ;  and  above  all  things  we  should  avoid 
pride,  as  a  preacher's  greatest  bane.  And  unfor- 
tunately for  me  during  the  first  half  of  this  year, 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


135 


ray  respected  senior  took  it  into  his  head  that  I 
was  so  much  endangered  by  the  attentions  of  the 
people,  it  would  require  all  his  endeavors  to  keep 
me  humble.  We  had  at  that  tiijie  but  two 
churches  belonging  to  our  Connection  in  Charles- 
ton. These  were  Cumberland  Street  and  Bethel. 
Trinity  as  yet  was  not  ours,  but  three  preachers 
had  been  sent  to  the  city,  under  a  stipulation  with 
the  trustees  of  that  church  to  take  it  into  our 
circuit  with  the  others ;  they  managing  things  in 
their  own  way  as  regarded  discipline  and  the  col- 
lections, and  engaging  to  pay  the  amount  of  the 
quarterage  of  one  preacher,  (eighty  dollars,)  with- 
out cost  for  board.  And  the  failure  of  this  experi- 
ment was  so  utter  as  to  induce  the  trustees,  at  the 
expiration  of  the  second  quarter,  to  release  them- 
selves from  their  engagement,  on  the  ground  that 
the  stipulated  eighty  dollars  could  not  be  raised. 
Our  principal  church  was  Cumberland  Street,  where 
we  had  half  a  houseful  or  more  in  the  mornings, 
and  more  than  the  house  could  hold  in  the  after- 
noons and  evenings.  Bethel  was  not  so  large  a 
building,  and,  except  in  the  mornings,  was  not  so 
well  attended ;  so  that  for  the  afternoons  and  even- 
ings, whoever  preached  at  Cumberland  Street  had 
twice  as  many  hearers  as  the^  preacher  at  Bethel. 
Trinity,  except  in  name,  was  out  of  the  question : 
no  congregations  could  be  got  there.  But  tay  ap- 
pointments, for  several  months  together,  kept  me 
to  Bethel  and  Trinity  for  the  afternoons  and  even- 
ings, and  Cumberland  in  the  morning,  with  but 


136  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPEES. 

few  exceptions.  My  name  was  second  in  tlie  order 
of  the  minutes  of  Conference,  but  for  official  busi- 
ness the  preacher  in  charge  always  passed  me  by 
and  asked  assistance  of  my  colleague,  who  was  no 
older  than  myself ;  and  all  for  no  purpose  under 
heaven  but  to  keep  me  humble.  My  excellent 
friend,  the  Rev.  William  M.  Kennedy,  was  Pre- 
siding Elder,  and  I  asked  his  attention  to  this 
matter.  But  he  could  only  assure  me  that  my  senior 
wished  me  no  harm,  but  did  it  only  to  prevent  my 
being  injured  by  what  he  called  my  popularity. 
But  does  he  not  degrade  me  ?  was  a  question  not 
so  easily  answered  as  that  of  the  reason  of  the 
course  pursued.  A  slight  change  followed  for  a 
little  while  only,  and  then  the  former  manner  of 
rotation  was  renewed  for  the  special  benefit  I  should 
derive  from  it  as  a  counterpoise  to  popularity. 
Happily  for  me,  I  believed  that  my  senior  col- 
league was  honest-hearted,  though  in  this  case  in- 
judicious ;  and  with  the  correction  of  what  seemed 
to  me  an  ill-judged  degradation,  all  was  in  harmony 
and  went  on  smoothly  with  us.  During  the  many 
years  which  have  since  elapsed,  he  has  abundantly 
proved  his  great  worth  as  a  man  and  minister, 
and  I  have  always  confided  in  him  as  a  friend. 

You  need  not  be  told  here  of  the  sad  disabilities 
which  our  ministry  had  fallen  under,  before  my 
time,  in  consequence  of  the  action  of  the  General 
Conference,  instigated  by  Dr.  Coke,  with  respect 
to  slavery.  At  the  time  of  our  present  dat^  (the 
first  of  my  knowing  any  thing  about  it,)  we  lay 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


137 


under  the  ban  of  suspicion  as  clisorganizers  who 
could  not  be  trusted  among  the  negroes  without 
danger  to  the  public  peace,  all  along  the  wealthier 
portions  of  the  low  country  from  Cape  Fear  to  the 
Savannah  river.  My  information  of  those  earlier 
times  is  to  the  effect  that  Methodism,  on  its  first  in- 
troduction into  the  low  country  of  South  Carolina, 
was  as  favorably  received  as  anywhere  else  in  the 
United  States.  If  we  take  Charleston  for  an  exam- 
ple, we  shall  find  among  the  names  of  its  first 
members,  Joshua  Wells,  John  Stoney,  Francis 
Weston,  Thomas  Bennett,  (father  of  the  late  Gover- 
nor,) and  others  belonging  to  the  best  portion  of 
the  community,  even  as  the  world  might  judge. 
But  before  my  time,  we  had  become  reduced  to  a 
condition  of  positive  obscurity ;  and  it  might  have 
been  said  to  the  brethren  there,  not  only  that  "  not 
many  wise  men  after  the  flesh,  not  many  mighty, 
not  many  noble  were  called,"  but  that  none  were. 
And  for  the'  country,  an  anecdote  or  two  may  serve 
to  illustrate  the  matter.  Among  the  chief  of  our 
ministers  of  the  first  race  was  Reuben  Ellis,  and 
among  the  most  wealthy  and  influential  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Cooper  river,  and  second  in  either 
regard  to  but  few  men  in  the  State,  was  Elias 
Ball,  Esq.  Mr.  Ellis,  travelling  his  district,  called 
at  Mr.  Ball's,  and  was  courteously  entertained. 
And  the  conversation  turning  on  the  good  that 
might  result  from  preaching  to  the  negroes,  it  was 
proposed  to  make  an  experiment  that  evening  by 
collecting  them  in  the  spacious  piazza  attached 


138  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

to  Mr.  Ball's  mansion,  for  Mr.  Ellis  to  preach  to 
them.  He  preached  accordingly;  and  Mr.  Ball 
was  so  captivated  with  it,  as  to  urge  for  another 
evening's  service.  And  before  Mr.  Ellis  left,  he 
offered  him  a  salary  of  six  hundred  dollars  and  his 
board  to  remain  permanently  as.  his  chaplain,  and 
to  preach  to  his  negroes  every  Sabbath  day.  This 
anecdote  I  got  from  my  father,  who  got  it  from  Mr. 
Ellis  or  Mr.  Ball  himself 

I  cannot  tell  what  ma}^  have  carried  Dr.  Coke 
there,  but  on  that  very  visit  to  America  which 
proved  so  hurtful  by  the  introduction  of  his  aboli- 
tion measures,  he  happened  to  visit  Edisto  Island, 
(the  largest  and  wealthiest  of  our  sea  islands,)  and 
preached.  And  such  was  the  influence  of  his 
visit  as  to  induce  a  petition  for  a  preacher  to  be 
sent  to  the  island.  One  was  appointed  accord- 
ingly, but  before  his  arrival  the  storm  from  the 
i^orth  was  upon  us,  and  he  found  no  place  for  the 
sole  of  his  foot. 

A  singular  state  of  things  ensued.  "We  had 
belonging  to  the  Church  in  Charleston,  (1811,)  as 
if  raised  up  for  the  exigences  of  the  time,  some 
extraordinary  colored  men.  I  have  mentioned 
Castile  Selby;  there  were  also  Amos  Baxter,  Tom 
Smith,  Peter  Simpson,  Smart  Simpson,  Harry 
Bull,  Richard  Hollo  way,  Alek  Harlston,  and  others, 
men  of  intelligence  and  piety,  who  read  the  Scrip- 
tures and  understood  them,  and  were  zealous  for 
religion  among  the  negroes.  These  were  favorably 
known  in  the  country  places,  on  Goose  creek, 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


139 


Cooper  river,  Wando,  St.  Paul's  Parish,  St.  James, 
St.  John,  and  Wadmalaw  Islands,  and  even  as  far 
as  Pon-Pon  river.  I  mean  that  in  all  these  parts, 
8ome  one  of  them  was  known  and  approved  by 
some  several  of  the  planters,  for  whom  they  had 
been  accustomed  to  do  work,  (one  as  a  millwright, 
another  as  a  carpenter  or  shoemaker,)  or  out  of 
whose  estates  they  had  been  liberated,  or  to  whom 
or  whose  near  friends  they  belonged.  And  while 
the  white  man,  a  citizen,  born  and  bred  on  the  soil, 
and  even  owning  slaves,  for  being  a  Methodist 
preacher  was  excluded,  as  if  by  some  sentence  of 
outlawry,  these  colored  men  were  permitted  to 
hold  meetings  with  the  negroes  pretty  freely :  as, 
for  instance,  Hollo  way  on  Goose  creek,  or  Amos 
Baxter  on  Pon-Pon.  And  while  they  might  re- 
ceive any  allowance  at  all  on  the  part  of  the  plant- 
ers, or  their  meetings  were  only  winked  at,  they 
received  on  our  part  the  most  hearty  encourage- 
ment. Our  plan  was  to  recognize  them  as  our 
agents.  We  authorized  them  to  admit  and  exclude 
members ;  kept  regular  lists  of  their  classes  as  be- 
longing to  our  charge  in  Charleston ;  (for  there  was 
no  other  to  which  they  could  belong ;)  and  they  re- 
ported to  us  minutely  on  Monday  what  had  been 
done  on  Sunday.  They  were  the  only  persons  who  . 
for  Christ's  sake  were  zealous  enough  to  undertake 
such  a  service,  and  who,  at  the  same  time,  could 
get  access  to  the  people  that  that  service  might  be 
rendered.  And  I  am  satisfied  that  we  did  right  to 
encourage  them  to  the  degree  we  did,  notwith- 


140 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


standing  we  could  not  exactly  square  it  either  by 
the  statutes  on  the  one  hand,  or  the  rules  of  Discip- 
line on  the  other.  We  knew  them  to  be  good 
men ;  the  work  was  one  of  the  most  sacred  obliga- 
tion to  be  done ;  and  this  was  our  only  alteruative. 
But  how  imperfect  was  such  a  half-fashioned  expe- 
dient, in  comparison  to  the  regular  missionary 
labors  which  have  since  been  bestowed  in  the  same 
quarters,  under  a  better  condition  of  things  ! 

Under  all  the  obloquy  cast  upon  them,  the  Me- 
thodists were,  nevertheless,  much  esteemed.  But 
it  seemed  to  be  an  esteem  like  that  one  might  have 
for  inferior  animals  which  render  service,  rather 
than  a  recognition  of  their  proper  claims  as  a  flock 
of  Christ's  own  fold.  Their  preaching  might  be 
attended  with  great  propriet}^,  for  almost  every- 
body did  so,  but  who  might  join  them  ?  'No,  it 
was  vastly  more  respectable  to  join  some  other 
Church,  and  still  attend  the  preaching  of  the 
Methodists,  which  was  thought  to  answer  all  pur- 
poses. And  this  has  been  the  case  long  since  the 
^  year  I  am  speaking  of.  The  persons  of  that  year 
whom  I  can  call  to  mind  have  gone  to  their 
account ;  and  yet  I  hesitate  not  to  say  that  if  all 
the  individuals  who  have  joined  other  Churches  in 
,  that  city  since  1811,  professing  to  have  been  awak- 
ened under  the  Methodist  ministry,  had  joined  the 
Church  where  God  met  them,  the  Methodist  Church 
in  Charleston  might  have  ranked  in  worldly  respects 
with  the  very  first,  before  this  day. 

This  year  we  commenced  preaching  in  the  poor- 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  141 

honse  with  good  effect ;  and  tlie  practice  was  kept 
up  for  many  years  afterwards. 

In  September  I  attended  a  call  to  the  country,, 
which,  by  God's  blessing,  produced  the  nucleus  of 
Cooper  River  Circuit.  A  Mr.  Hale,  living  on  the 
main  road  between  Clemens' s  Ferry,  (five  miles 
■above  Charleston,)  and  Lenud's  Ferry,  on  Santee, 
ten  miles  from  the  latter  place,  had  represented 
the  destitution  of  preaching  in  his  neighborhood 
and  that  part  of  Santee,  and  requested  that  one  of 
the  preachers  should  visit  them.  The  lot  fell  on 
me,  and  I  found  w^ork  for  a  week.  The  appoint- 
ment was  made  for  preaching  at  the  house  of  the 
applicant  on  Sunday,  at  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing. There  was  a  large  congregation  for  a  thinly 
peopled  country,  who  had  not  heard  preaching  of 
any  denomination  for  many  years  before.  After 
j)reaching  I  baptized  a  number  of  children ;  and 
the  people  still  hanging  on,  as  if  reluctant  to  go 
away,  I  preached  a  second  time.  The  text  was 
Luke  xix.  9,  "  This  day  is  salvation  come  to  this 
house.''  And  although  the  people  had  been  kept 
so  long  in  attendance,  and  the  men  geiierally  stood 
up  for  want  of  room  or  seats  for  sitting,  their  atten- 
tion never  flagged;  so  novel  was  the  occasion,  and 
so  truly  was  there  a  gracious  influence  with  them. 
In  the  midst  of  the  second  service,  a  daughter  of 
Mr.  Hale  cried  out  and  sank  to  the  floor.  It  pro- 
duced but  a  momentaivy  pause.,  and  she  being  taken 
into  the  next  room,  I  proceeded  with  my  discourse, 
after  remarking  that  it  was  not  so  surprising  that  one 

» 


142  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

who  liad  suddenly  come  to  tlie  knowledge  of  her 
condition  as  a  sinner  should  be  overpowered  by  it, 
as  that  so  many  who  could  not  believe  themselves 
to  be  in  a  safe  state  should  be  unconcerned  about 
it.  I  took  it  to  be  an  instance  of  the  literal  fulfil- 
ment of  the  text  in  the  case  of  the  young  lady ; 
who,  I  did  not  doubt,  would  be  enabled  to  confirm 
what  I  said,  when  I  should  visit  them  again.  At 
the  close  of  the  service,  I  appointed  to  preach  on  the 
following  Friday  evening  at  the  same  place,  and 
made  an  appointment  for  Tuesday  at  a  Mr.  Comp- 
ton's,  near  Lenud's  Ferry.  At  Compton's,  too, 
there  was  a  full  attendance,  and  an  encouraging 
prospect.  Returning  to  Hale's,  I  found  the  new 
convert  exceeding  happy  in  the  love  of  God,  and 
the  rest  of  the  family  anxiously  inquiring  what 
they  must  do  to  be  saved,  ^or  was  the  work  con- 
fined to  them  only  ;  but  their  neighbors  hearing 
that  the  preacher's  prophecy  had  come  to  pass, 
(which  was  no  prophecy  at  all,  but  spoken  on  the 
evidence  of  numerous  examples,)  they  were  flock- 
ing to  see  for  themselves  what  had  taken  place.  A 
class  was  formed,  and  the  next  year  my  brother 
John  was  sent  to  form  the  Cooper  River  Circuit. 

I  might  mention  other  incidents  of  this  year 
which  were  deeply  interesting  to  myself  at  the 
time.  But  as  both  they  and  their  consequences 
have  passed  away,  and  they  might  illustrate  no- 
thing of  any  value,  I  pass  them  by.  The  year 
wound  up  pleasantly.  We  returned  two  hundred 
and  eighty-two  whites  and  three  thousand  one  hun- 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


143 


dred  and  twenty-eight  colored  members  to  the 
Conference;  and  left  the  Church  enjoying  great  in- 
ternal peace,  and,  indeed,  prosperity. 

The  Conference  was  held  at  Camden,  December 
21,  1811.  It  was  attended  by  Bishop  Asbury, 
alone.  The  Conference  session  was  on  the  whole 
a  pleasant  one  ;  the  preachers  in  the  spirit  of  their 
work,  and"  eminently  in  the  spirit  of  love. 

There  was  one  case  in  the  course  of  the  exam- 
ination of  candidates  for  full  connection  and 
deacons'  orders,  which  so  remarkably  illustrates 
the  economy  of  those  times  in  relation  to  the  mar- 
riage of  young  preachers,  (or  I  should  rather  say 
the  severity  of  the  Conferences  on  that  subject, 
owing  to  what  was  conceived  to  be  the  necessity 
of  having  them  unmarried,)  that  I  will  relate  it. 
A.  G.  had  travelled  two  years,  and  both  of  them  as 
the  helper  of  the  excellent  Gassaway,  and  was 
eligible  to  admission  and  election,  'No  one  of  his 
class  stood  fairer  than  he  for  piety,  zeal,  diligence 
in  duty,  and  usefulness  as  a  preacher.  Not  the 
shadow  of  an  objection  was  there  against  him  but 
that  he  had  married  a  wife ;  who  was  in  all  re- 
spects a  suitable  person,  and  of  an  excellent 
family.  And  yet  for  this  sole  reason  he  was  neither 
admitted  into  full  connection  nor  elected  deacon. 
Brother  Gassaway  urged  with  great  force  the  au- 
thority of  1  Timothy  iii.  12.  But  brother  Myers's 
speech  carried  it  against  him ;  the  main  point  of 
which  was  presented  thus  :  "A  youn^man  comes 
to  us  and  says  he  is  called  to  preach.    We  answer, 


144  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


'I  don't  know.'  He. comes  a  second  time,  perhaps 
a  third  time,  even  a  fourth  time,  saying,  dispensa- 
tion of  the  gospel  is  committed  unto  me,  and  woe 
be  to  me  if  I  preach  not  the  gospeh'  Then  we  say 
to  him,  'Go  and  try.'  He  goes  and  tries,  and  can 
hardly  do  it.  We  bear  with  him  a  little  while,  and 
he  does  better.  And  just  as  we  begin  to  hope  he 
may  make  a  preacher,  lo,  he  comes  again  to  us, 
and  says,  '  I  must  marry.'  "We  say  to  him,  '  If  you 
marry,  you  will  soon  locate :  go  and  preach.'  '  ITo,  I 
must  marry,  I  must  marry.'  We  say  to  him,  'A  dis- 
pensation of  the  gospel  is  committed  to  you,  and  woe 
he  unto  you  if  you  preach  not  the  gospel.'  '  But  no,' 
he  says,  *I  iniist  marry.'  And  he  marries.  It  is 
enough  to  make  an  angel  weep  !"  It  will  naturally 
be  supposed  that  brother  Myers  was  a  single  man ; 
and  his  speech  may  indicate  the  controlling  reason 
^Yhy  he  was  single :  he  connected  marriage  in- 
separably with  location ;  or,  in  other  words,  a 
carrying  of  the  question,  as  one  between  preaching 
and  mariying,  against  one's  conviction  of  his  duty 
to  preach.  The  evil  which  required  a  remedy  was 
not  that  the  preachers  took  wives,  but  the  unpro- 
vided condition  of  the  circuits ;  which,  without 
parsonage-houses,  or  means  or  disposition  to  rent 
houses  for  the  preachers,  and  without  a  penny's 
worth  allowed  for  the  support  of  families,  devolved 
on  married  preachers  the  unreasonable  expense  of 
subsisting  their  families  hy  their  own  means ;  and 
these  proving  insufficient  for  the  purpose  without 
their  personal  labor,  obliged  them  to  desist  from 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


145 


travelling.  And  what  did  it  profit  the  itinerancy 
to  bear  hardly  on  the  junior  preachers  for  marry- 
ing, when,  in  most  cases,  it  was  only  to  suspend 
for  a  few  years  the  coming  location  ?  Or  how; 
much  less  cause  might  there  be  to  make  "an  angel 
weep,"  when,  for  marrying  aftei^  five  or  six  years 
in  the  work,  an  able  minister  was  driven  to  locate 
for  want  of  subsistence  for  his  family,  than  there' 
was  in,  his  doing,  the  same  thing  for  the  same 
cause  before  he  had  become  so  useful  ?  . 

My  appointment  for  1812  was  to  Orangeburg 
Circuit;  the  upper  division  of  what  had  been 
called  Edisto  Circuit,  and  which  was  now  divided 
into  Salkahatchie  and  Orangeburg  Circuits.  It 
consisted  of  thirteen  appointments,  and  was  tra- 
velled in  two  weeks ;  including  the  fork  of  Edisto 
for  some  twenty  miles  upward,  and  the  societies 
between  the  north  fork  of  that  river  and  Beaver 
creek,  and  thence  downward  in  the  direction  of 
the  present  State  road  to  a  point  opposite  to  the 
village  of  Orangeburg,  and  thence  to  the  village. 
A  pleasant  circruit  it  was,  and  a  desirable  appoint- 
ment ;  but  I  was  not  permitted  to  go  so  immediate- 
ly to  it  as  to  my  former  appointments.  At  this 
Conference  I  "was  required  to  act  as  assistant  sec- 
retary, brother  Kennedy  being  the  Secretary.  And 
the  day  after  the  session  closed,  when  he  would 
have  furnished  the  Bishop  with  the  papers  neces- 
sary for  publishing  the  minutes,  that  very  import- 
ant one,  the  returns  of  the  numbers  in  society,  could 
not  be  found.  I  was  directed  therefore  to  make 
7 


146 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


haste  back  to  Camden,  (for  we  were  then  at  Rem- 
bert's,)  and  search  the  Conference  room  for  it ;  and  if 
I  could  not  find  it  there,  to  pursue  after  either  of  the 
preachers  who  might  have  taken  a  copy,  and  meet 
the  Bishop  at  such  a  time,  at  such  a  place,  with  the 
lost  paper,  or  a  copy,  as  the  case  might  be.  How 
could  such  a  paper  have  been  lost?  I  was  in- 
volved in  the  fault;  and  that,  too,  on  the  first 
occasion  of  such  a  service.  My  horse  was  a  good 
one,  the  best  I  have  ever  had  ;>  and  I  went  after 
the  lost  paper,  (which  at  last  proved  not  to  have 
been  lost,)  as  if  to  recover  it  had  been  a  matter  of 
the  last  importance.  It  was  not  in  the  Conference 
room ;  but  some  one  had  seen  a  brother  who  was 
sent  to  the  extreme  corner  of  the  Conference  dis- 
trict taking  a  copy  of  it ;  and  off  I  went  for  Bun- 
combe county,  Korth  Carolina.  The  weather  was 
of  the  worst,  and  exceeding  cold,  and  my  brother 
had  nearly  two  days  start  of  me  ;  but  on  the  fourth 
day  I  had  overtaken  him,  got  what  he  had  of  the 
lost  numbers,  and  was  on  my  way  back.  But  so 
hard  a  ride  through  wet  and  freezing  weather,  and 
without  sufficient  clothing,  had  well-nigh  knocked 
me  up,  so  that  I  had  to  lose  as  much  time  as  my 
rapid  travelling  had  gained,  (two  days,)  to  relieve 
myself  of  a  fever  and  incessant  cough.  Still  there 
was  time  for  me  to  meet  the  Bishop  as  he  had  ap- 
pointed; and  I  was  off  again  to  do  so.  I  have 
never  been  on  any  errand,  nor  engaged  on  any 
other  business,  which  absorbed  my  attention  more 
intensely  than  the  present.    I  had  thought  of  no- 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


147 


thing  else.  So  that  when  I  discovered  that  to  meet 
the  Bishop's  appointment  must  almost  necessarily 
carry  me  to  the  hoiise  of  the  little  girl  whose  love- 
liness had  so  enraptured  me  two  years  before^  and 
who  might  now  be  grown  up,  it  seemed  a  coin- 
cidence too  strange  to  have  been  brought  about  by 
accident.  If  I  had  thought  of  it,  I  might  have 
arranged,  to  be  sure,  for  the  same  coincidence. 
But  I  had  not  thought  of  it.  l^o  idea  of  the  sort 
had  entered  my  mind,  till  I  found  myself  cal- 
culating distances  and  stages  on  this  renewal  of 
my  journey,  and  found,  as  by  chance,  that  my 
second  night  must  be  passed  at  the  house  of  my  old 
friend  Eichard  Green,  Esq.,  of  Black  River,  in 
Georgetown  District,  whose  stepdaughter  Anna 
White  was.  I  saw  her,  I  loved  her  with  an  all- 
pervading  passion,  and  she  consented  to  become 
my  wife.  N'or  did  I  delay  my  journey ;  but  met 
the  Bishop,  (who  found  the  lost  paper  within 
an  hour  after  I  left  him,)  and  was  dismissed 
for  my  circuit  with  his  blessing.  Another  even- 
ing on  my  way  with  her  who  was  become,  as  by 
magic,  the  soul  of  my  soul,  and  life  of  my  life,  and  I 
was  off  for  my  circuit.  I  could  not,  however, 
reach  there  so  soon.  Snows  (for  whatever  reason) 
were  more  frequent  then  than  latterly  in  South 
Carolina ;  and  since  the  two  days'  confinement  at 
my  father's,  by  cold,  I  had  had  another  day's 
ride  in  the  snow,  so  that  a  week  was  lost,  as  those 
two  days  had  been,  on  my  way  to  the  Orangeburg 
Circuit. 


148 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


The  first  quarter  passed  o&  exceeding  well,  and, 
indeed,  for  all  the  time  of  my  labors  in  this  circuit 
I  might  say  the  same,  but  for  an  unfortunate  in- 
volvement'at  the  Quarterly  Conference  closing  the 
first  quarter.  Among  the  last  acts  of  my  prede- 
cessor before  leaving  the  circuit,  and  after  the 
fourth  Quarterly  Meeting  had  been  held,  was  a 
trial,  involving  great  general  interest,  of  a  highly 
respectable  member  of  the  Church  at  a  pla6e  then 
called  Zeigler's,  on  an  allegation  brought  by  another 
belonging  to  the  society  at  Tabernacle.  These 
were  the  two  most  numerous  and  important  socie- 
ties in  the  circuit,  Tabernacle  being  the  first,  and 
this  afikir  had  involved  connections  on  either  side, 
so  that  it  had  become  little  less  than  a  general  dis- 
turbance between  the  societies  as  well  as  an  alter- 
cation between  the  individuals.  On  that  first 
investigation  it  had  been  given  against  the  member 
at  Zeigler's,  and  he  appealed  to  the  Quarterly  Con- 
ference. This  Quarterly  Conference  was  the  first 
in  my  year.  The  appeal  consumed  much  time,  the 
case  being  somewhat  intricate,  and  the  witnesses, 
pro  and  con,  not  a  few.  A  sort  of  summing  up  of 
the  testimony  was  called  for,  and  the  Presiding 
Elder,  declining  it  himself,  asked  it  of  me.  I 
ought  not  to  have  attempted  it,  but  his  suggestion 
seemed  to  be  approved,  and  for  the  sole  reason  of 
obliging  my  senior  I  did  attempt  it.  This  involved 
me  in  the  censure  of  those  who  were  on  the  side  of 
the  accuser,  and  in  whose  judgment  the  evidence 
on  the  other  side  deserved  no  consideration ;  and, 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


149 


notwithstanding  the  Presiding  Elder's  opinion  that 
X  had  been  impartial  and  rehearsed  fally  the  whole 
case,  I  had  to  suffer  a  little  for  it.  In  the  order  of 
my  round  I  came  first  to  Zeigler's,  next  to  Wan- 
namaker's,  (now  called  Prospect,  I  think,)  and  then 
to  Tabernacle ;  and  at  Zeigler's  I  got  a  note  from 
brother  0.  R.,  of  the  adjoining  circuit,  (Congaree,) 
informing  me  that  such  and  such  principal  men 
belonging  to  Tabernacle  had  waited  on  him  in 
behalf  of  the  society,  requesting  him  to  take  their 
church  into  his  circuit,  for  the  reason  that  the 
people  of  Tabernacle  would  no  longer  attend  my 
ministry.  And  the  reason  of  this  reason  was  that, 
on  the  hearing  of  the  appeal  at  the  Quarterly  Con- 
ference, I  had  given  such  a  one-sided  and  perverted 
view  of  it  as  proved  that  the  defendant's  pretty 
sister  had  more  influence  with  me  than  my  con- 
science. And  my  good  brother  and  co-laborer  was 
so  considerate  as  to  advise  me  not  to  suffer  any 
personal  feelings  to  weigh  with  me  to  the  loss  of 
souls.  Of  course  I  would  not ;  and  only  answered 
him  that  we  had  no  authority,  even  at  the  instiga- 
tion of  the  people,  to  transfer  appointments  from 
circuit  to  circuit ;  that  I  would  not  vindicate  my- 
self in  the  matter  complained  of,  nor  acknowledge 
any  fault,  being  conscious  of  none ;  but  that  he 
might  preach  at  Tabernacle  in  my  place  until  my 
'  Presiding  ■  Elder,  who  was  gone,  or  about  going  to 
the  General  Conference,  should  return  and  see  to  it. 
Two  days  after,  I  attended  in  course  on  the  for- 
bidden ground,  and  had  very  few  to  hear  me. 


150 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


Them  I  told  tliat  I  should  not  return  there  for  some 
time,  but  that  in  the  meanwhile  brother  R.,  of  the 
Congaree  Circuit,  would  preach  in  my  stead.  And  I 
gave  out  his  appointment  for  a  certain  day.  But 
on  my  second  round  of  two  weeks  each,  how  great 
was  my  surprise  at  seeing  in  my  congregation  at 
"Wannamaker's  the  very  men  who  had  been  to 
brother  R.  to  induce  him  to  take  their  society  in 
his  circuit,  and  become  their  pastor  on  the  ground 
of  my  unworthiness ;  and  still  more,  to  learn 
from  them  that  their  object  in  coming  was  to  induce 
me  to  return  to  them  as  at  first.  Was  it  to  add 
insult  to  injury  that  they  did  this  ?  By  no  means, 
they  assured  me ;  but  because  they  were  convinced 
that  they  had  done  very  wrong,  and  everybody 
knew  it.  It  apjjeared  that  a  sudden  and  great  re- 
vulsion had  taken  place  by  means  of  an  eminently 
pious  old  sister.  It  is  a  curious  story,  and  I  will 
relate  it:  Brother  R,.  had  preached  his  first  ser- 
mon, and  was  meeting  class,  when,  calling  the 
name  of  this  particular  sister,  and  asking  her  how 
her  soul  prospered,  she  answered  that  it  had  never 
been  worse  with  her  than  it  then  was,  and  she  ex- 
pected it  to  be  no  better  while  he  continued  to 
preach  there.  She  did  not  wish  to  oficnd  him,  but 
he  was  not  her  preacher.  "  When,"  continued  she, 
"I  first  joined  the  Church,  it  distressed  me  very 
much  that  the  preacher  had  to  go  away,  and  he 
told  me  that  if  I  would  set  apart  a  day  for  prayer 
and  fasting,  and  would  pray  for  it  daily  during 
Conference,  the  Lord  would  send  me  a  preacher 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


151 


who  should  be  to  me  the  same  as  he  had  been.  I, 
did  as  he  told  me  to  do,  and  the  Lord  sent  me  a 
preacher.  And  I  have  been  doing  so  ever  since, 
and  the  Lord  has  always  sent  me  a  preacher.  I 
did  80  this  year,  and  the  Lord  sent  me  brother 
Capers,  just  as  he  had  sent  the  rest ;  but  I  don't 
know,  brother,  who  sent  you.  One  thing  I  know, 
you  are  not  my  preacher.  You  belong  to  the  Con- 
garee  people  for  this  year,  and  brother  Capers  is 
our  preacher."  And  so,  "for  the  divisions  of 
Reuben  there  were  great  searchings  of  heart." 
They  knew  not  my  secret,  or  they  had  spared  them- 
selves. 

But  to  return  to  the  brethren  who  had  met  me 
at  Wannamaker's.  I  would  not  consent  to  resume 
my  appointments  at  Tabern'acle  without  seeing  for 
myself  that  justice  had  been  done  me  with  the 
community;  but  I  did  consent  that  they  might 
make  an  appointment  for  preaching  there  of  an 
evening  on  my  next  round,  when  I  would  decide 
what  to  do.  At  the  time,  I  had  a  large  congrega- 
tion ;  and  the  late  malcontents  seemed  to  vie  with 
those  who  had  been  most  grieved  on  my  account, 
in  their  attentions  to  me.  I  resumed  my  ap- 
pointments :  Tabernacle,  as  at  first,  continued  the 
head  of  the  circuit;  and  I  might  have  forgiven 
the  wrong,  if  only  for  the  evidence  it  furnished, 
that  travelling  preachers  might  not  be  less  liable 
to  difficulties  for  being  unmarried. 

On  this  circuit  I  had  every  thing  which  a  preacher 
might  desire  for  contentment.    There  was  work 


152  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


,  enough,  and  my  appointments  well  attended ;  at 
almost  every  place  I  had  affectionate  Christian 
friends,  whose  worth  I  was  prepared  to  estimate, 
and  whom  I  loved  sincerely ;  with  one  slight  excep- 
tion, my  health  was  excellent;  and,  above  all,  my 
labors  were  not  in  vain.  What  gave  me  most  con- 
cern, was  an  habitual  unbelief  as  to  my  Christian 
experience.  IS^ot  that  I  ever  doubted  the  genuine- 
ness of  my  conversion,  and  that  I  had  received  the 
witness  of  the  Spirit  at  the  time  before  given ;  nor 
that  I  had  again  and  again,  on  a  great  many  occa- 
sions, enjoyed  manifestations  of  the  grace  of  God, 
as  revealed  in  the  gospel ;  but  the  question  of  'per- 
plexity was  as  to  the  character  of  that  state  in 
which  I  frequently  found  myself,  when  I  might  not 
be  able  to  assure  myself  that  all  was  well,  for  want 
of  some  special  manifestation  to  assure  me.  It  was 
not  a  question  of  the  past,  but  of  the  present  time ; 
and  of  the  present,  not  as  it  might  be  connected 
with  the  past,  but  as  in  itself  it  stood  related  to  the 
future  judgment  for  my  justification  or  the  reverse. 
Was  I  not  "  every  moment  pleasing  or  displeasing 
to  God?"  And  if  so,  what  was  the  character  of 
my  state  at  those  moments,  hours,  or  days,  in  which 
I  felt  not  assured  by  its  separate  experience,  of  my 
being  at  that  time  a  child  of  God  ?  Such  questions 
I  was  apt  to  examine  in  a  light  too  strictly  legal ; 
or  else  with  an  undue  regard  to  emotions,  rather 
than  to  principles  and  motives  ;  and  hence  I  .was 
still  liable  to  the  pain  of  what  I  have  called  an 
habitual  unbelief  as  to  my  Christian  state.    I  could 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  153 

not  be  satisfied  with  myself,  not  only  as  it  regards 
a  comparison  of  what  one  is  to  what  one  might 
be,  but  of  what  one  is  to  what  one  has  been,  in 
respect  of  a  feeling  of  assurance.  It  was  in  this 
frame  of  mind  that  I  went,  to  a  camp-meeting, 
about  midsummer,  on  Four  Holes,  just  above  the 
bridge  on  the  old  Orangeburg  road ;  deeply  im- 
pressed with  my  want  of  holiness,  both  for  my  own 
happiness,  and  that  my  ministry  might  be  profitable 
to  the  people.  This  meeting  was  one  of  the  very 
best.  At  first  I  proposed  to  myself  not  to  be  active 
in  it,  but  to  give  myself  as  much  as  possible  to 
retirement  and  prayer,  after  hearing  the  sermons 
from  time  to  time.  On  this  plan  I  passed  several 
days  uncomfortably ;  and  instead  of  more  light  and 
love,  found  my  mind  more  and  more  perplexed.  I 
saw  my  error,  and  corrected  it  by  going  earnestly 
to  work  for  others  ;  and  was  much  relieved,  though 
still  unsatisfied.  The  meeting  closed,  and  left  me 
to  return  to  my  circuit,  lacking  in  faith,  in  love,  in 
the  assurance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  not,  as  I  had 
hoped,  strong  and  exultant.  I  had  never  since  my 
conversion  felt  more  dissatisfied  with  myself  than 
I  did  as,  riding  pensively  along  the  road  to  my 
circuit,  I  reviewed  the  history,  both  of  the  meeting, 
and  of  my  purposes  and  feelings  in  going  to  it  and 
during  its  continuance  :  how  much  I  had  needed ; 
how  little  I  had  obtained :  with  what  strong  de- 
sire I  had  anticipated  it,  as  a  time  of  extraordinary 
blessing,  and  to  what  little  purpose  it  had  been 
improved.    Should  I  return  to  the  labors  of  my 


154 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


circuit  still  unrefreslied,  like  Gideon's  fleece,  dry 
in  the-  midst  of  the  dew  of  heaven  ?  Why  was  it 
so?  Had  I  made  an  idol  of  the  camp-meeting, 
trusting  to  means  of  any  sort  in  place  of  the  all- 
quickening  Spirit  ?  And  I  turned  aside  into  a  thick 
wood,  saying  to  myself,  There  is  none  here  but  God 
only,  and  I  cannot  thus  uncomfortable  go  back  to 
my  circuit ;  I  will  even  go  to  Him  alone  who  has 
all  power  in  heaven  and  earth,  and  who  has  called 
the  heavy-laden  unto  him  that  they  may  And  rest. 
Jesus,  Master,  heal  my  blindness !  Give  me  faith 
and  love  !  I  still  remember  how,  as  I  hitched  my 
horse,  I  felt  to  pity  him  for  the  long  fast  he  should 
have  to  keep  before  he  might  be  unloosed.  Bat  it 
was  not  so.  I  had  scarcely  fallen  on  my  knees, 
with  my  face  to  the  ground,  before  Heb.  xii.  18, 19, 
22,  23,  24,  was  applied  with  power  to  my  mind : 
"  For  ye  are  not  come  unto  the  mount  that  might 
be  touched,  and  that  burned  with  fire,  nor  unto 
blackness,  and  darkness,  and   tempest,  and  the 

sound  of  a  trumpet,  and  the  voice  of  words  

But  ye  are  come  unto  Mount  Sion,  and  unto  the 
city  of  the  living  God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and 
to  an  innumerable  company  of  angels,  to  the 
General  Assembly  and  Church  of  the  first-born 
which  are  written  in  heaven,  and  to  God  the  Judge 
of  all,  and  to  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect, 
and  to  J esus  the  Mediator  of  the  New  Covenant, 
and  to  the  blood  of  sprinkling,  that  speaketh  better 
things  than  that  of  Abel."  In  that  moment  how 
spiritual  seemed  religion,  how  intimate  the  connec- 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  155 

tion  between  earth  and  heaven,  grace  and.  glory, 
the  Church  militant  and  the  Church  triumphant! 
And  it  seemed  to  challenge  my  consent  to  leave 
the  one  for  the  other;  as  if  it  had  been  proposed 
to  me,  Would  you  give  up  all  who  are  below  for 
those  who  are  above,  and  count  it  now  a  high 
privilege  to  have  come  literally  and  absolutely  to 
mingle  with  the  innumerable  company  of  angels, 
and  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  in  the  hea- 
venly Jerusalem,  the  city  of  the  living  God  ?  And 
instinct  said  no,  and  all  the  loved  ones  on  earth 
seemed  to  say  no ;  but  the  words  sounded  to  my 
heart  above  the  voice  of  earth  and  instinct,  "Ye 
are  come!"  and  my  spirit  caught  the  transport,  and 
echoed  back  to  heaven,  ''Ye  are  come!"  In  that 
moment  I  felt,  as  can  only  be  felt,  "the  exceeding 
riches  of  his  grace  in  his  kindness  toward  us 
through  Christ  Jesus."  I  returned  to  my  circuit 
with  my  strength  renewed  as  the  eagle's,  fall  of 
faith  and  comfort.  ^Nevertheless,  I  did  not  per- 
ceive that  increase  of  power  attending  my  preach- 
ing which  my  former  views  of  the  reason  of  my 
lack  of  success  had  induced  me  to  expect.  Things 
went  on  much  as  before  :  sinners  remained  sinners 
still,  and  backsliders  were  backsliders  still.  Our 
class-meetings  only,  seemed  to  have  much  improved. 
Idolatry  in  its  most  subtle  forms  is  but  idolatry ; 
and  I  had  to  learn  what  St.  Peter  meant  (Acts  iii. 
12)  by  saying,  "  Why  look  ye  so  earnestly  on  us, 
as  though  by  our  own  power  or  holiness  we  had 
made  this  man  to  walk?"    The  miracle  had  been 


156  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

wrouglit  by  the  power  of  God ;  and  on  the  ^oart  of  the 
apostle,  simple  faith,  which  looked  away  from  all 
within  himself  to  Christ,  was  the  instrument  of 
taking  hold  on  that  power  which  Christ  alone  could 
exercise,  for  the  accomplishment  of  a  Divine  work. 
This  faith  was  not  holiness,  nor  was  Peter's  holi- 
ness that  faith.  True,  such  a  faith  might  not  be 
exercised  by  an  unholy  man ;  but  still  it  was  not 
holiness,  but  simply  faith.  And  it  would  not  be 
his  holiness  which  had  been  the  instrument  of  a 
Divine  work,  because  the  holiness  was  his,  substan- 
tively ;  a  possession  of  grace  which  God  had  given 
him,  and  which  the  Spirit  of  God  kept  w^hole  in 
him,  but  which,  nevertheless,  was  distinctively 
Peter's  holiness.  It  was  not  because  Peter  was  so 
holy  a  man,  but  simply  because  he  believed  in 
Christ,  who  had  called  him  to  the  apostleship,  that 
the  lame  man  was  healed.  The  difference  is  as  to 
the  object  of  each  :  the  holiness  of  Peter  directing 
attention  to  him  as  a  man  sufficiently  well  qualified  ; 
while  his  faith  points  wholly  to  the  Saviour  as  the 
only  and  all-sufficient  operator.  For  nothing  that 
Peter  was,  but  for  what  Christ  was,  the  miracle  had 
been  wrought;*  Peter  simply  apprehending  the 
power  and  compassion  of  his  Lord,  and  speaking 
the  word  as  from  his  own  lips,  "In  the  name  of 
Jesus  Christ  of  ISTazareth,  rise  up  and  walk." 

I  make  these  remarks  on  a  point  which  was  of 
some  consequence  to  myself  at  least;  not  as  under- 
valuing holiness — far  from  it — but  as  indicating  the 
Bource  of  all  the  perplexities  of  the  past  time. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  157 

First,  I  could  do  no  good  because  I  was  doubtful 
of  being  called  to  preach.  Then  I  could  do  almost 
none  at  all,  because  I  was  so  deficient  as  to  Chris;- 
tian  experience.  "When  in  heaviness  through  mani- 
fold temptations,  it  had  seemed  presumptuous  to 
preach  ;  and  when  satisfied  of  my  personal  justifi- 
cation, it  was  not  much  better,  by  reason  of  my 
lacking  holiness.  And  now  that  I  was  enabled  to 
"rejoice  evermore,"  I  might  not  give  it  a  name, 
because  the  proof  was  not  sufficient  to  sustain  the 
name  in  my  still  scanty  success.  ITor  was  this  all  : 
I  might  not  look  for  fruit  now ;  for  if  I  should  have 
any  great  success,  it  might  betray  me  into  self- 
confidence,  as  if  it  resulted  naturally  from  my  im- 
proved spiritual  condition,  and  was  not,  as  it  needs 
must  be,  the  work  of  God  only.  So  true  is  it,  that 
much  light'  does  not  imply  much  love,  nor  much 
.  love  much  light ;  and  that  in  any  state  we  may  ex- 
pect temptation.  Or,  if  it  shpuld  be  thought  that 
these  discouragements  of  mine,  first  and  last,  were 
only  proofs  of  immaturity,  it  must  be  confessed 
that  riper  minds  have  had  their  questions  too. 
How  comes  it  that  X.  should  be  distinguished 
among  his  brethren  as  a  revivalist,  when  perhaps 
he  exhibits  no  evidence  of  greater  piety  than  the 
rest,  or  is  even  less  sanctified  than  most  of  them 
are  ?  It  may  not  be  on  account  of  his  eloquence  ; 
for  he  may  not  be  an  eloquent  man  ;  and  if  he  is, 
eloquence  is  manifestly  incompetent  to  the  work. 
But  we  may  perceive  that  whoever  he  is,  and  what- 
ever his  accomplishments  may  be,  he  is  sure  to  aim 


158 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


simply  at  his  object.  "  He  goes  for  getting  people 
converted."  And  what  he  "goes  for"  he  is  apt  to 
succeed  at,  because  he  believes  the  gospel  can 
convert  them,  and  will  do  it.  And  does  it  require 
much  depth  of  piety  to  believe  this  ?  Is  it  won- 
derful that  even  an  imperfect  believer,  in  view  of  the 
whole  compass  of  revealed  truth,  should  believe  as 
much  ?  But  he  believes  also  that  it  will  be  done  at 
the  time  present.  And  why  not  at  the  present  time, 
if  at  all?  One  day  is  with  the  Lord  as  a  thousand 
years,  and  a  thousand  years  as  one  day."  But  so 
before  the  dispensation  of  the  Spirit  had  been  fully 
given,  or  Jesus  glorified,  when  he  taught  his  disci- 
ples (Luke  xvii.  3)  that  they  must  forgive  all  tres- 
passes, and  to  any  number  of  times,  they  exclaimed, 
"Lord,  increase  our  faith!"  as  if  they  might  not 
have  faith  enough  for  that ;  though  when  he  had 
sent  them  to  "heal  the  sick,  cleanse  the  lepers, 
raise  the  dead,  and  cast  out  devils,"  they  made  no 
difficulty  about  it,  but  went  straight  to  do  as  they  had 
been  bid,  and  did  it.  Have  what  else  we  may,  or 
may  not  have,  we  must  have  faith  that  we  may  do 
any  thing  in  the  name  of  Christ ;  and  faith  with 
respect  to  that  very  thing  which  is  proposed  to  be 
done,  that  he  will  do  it,  and  at  that  very  time,  l^ov 
would  I  say  that  good  cannot  be  done  by  means  of 
a  preacher  who  has  not  faith,  when  on  the  part 
of  the  hearer  there  exist  right  dispositions,  and  he 
is  shut  up  to  the  necessity  of  hearing  him  or  none. 
I  could  not  say  so,  bjit  I  could  say  that  it  is  not 
God's  method  to  carry  on  his  work  by  such  men. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


159 


The  old  Jews  might  find  it  profitable  to  attend  the 
teaching  of  the  Scribes  who  sat  in  Moses'  seat; 
the  goodness  of  the  truths  taught  countervailing 
the  unworthiness  of  the  persons  teaching;  but 
God's  purpose  was  to  have  better  men  to  teach  his 
word.  The  exception  is  not  the  rule.  JSTor,  indeed, 
IS  this  the  question,  which  looks  not  to  a  possibility 
of  profit  to  well-disposed  minds  waiting  to  be  fed 
by  the  word,  but  to  those  who  may  not  be  so  well- 
disposed,  and  with  respect  to  whom  the  gospel  is 
to  operate  in  its  aggressive  character.  It  is  a  ques- 
tion as  to  how  a  preacher  should  preach  so  as  to 
turn  sinners  to  God ;  and  my  answer  is,  that  be- 
lieving himself  to  be  called  to  that  work,  he  should 
believe  that  God  will  work  by  him,  and  work  now, 
and  preach  as  if  he  believed  it. 

I  was  not  permitted  to  continue  to  the  end  of 
the  year  in  this  pleasant  circuit,  but  was  called  to 
the  bedside  of  my  father  in  the  month  of  Septem- 
ber, to  whom  afterwards  my  duty  became  due  till 
hLs  death.  This  event,  which  filled  me  with  ex- 
treme sorrow,  was  quickly  followed  by  a  sore  trial. 
I  had  entered  into  an  engagement  of  marriage, 
with  a  purpose  of  locating  at  the  approaching  Con- 
ference, and  the  time  subsequently  fixed  for  the 
,  nuptials  was  the  13th  of  January  ensuing.  But 
the  reasons  for  my  locating  had  been  entirely  re- 
moved by  my  father's  death,  so  that  I  could  not  do 
so  and  be  clear  in  my  conscience.  Might  I,  then, 
locate  on  the  ground  of  having  formed  that  en- 
gagement?   And  if  not,  was  there  any  probability 


160 


LIFE    or    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


of  marrying  at  all?  Could  I  hope  that  my 
betrothed  would  marry  a  travelling  preacher,  as 
the  itinerancy  was  then  circumstanced?  Locate  I 
could  not.  ISTothing  had  been  stipulated  as  to 
location,  and  any  allusion  to  it  had  been  made  with 
reference  to  that  one  only  cause,  which  existed  no 
longer.  But  could  I,  at  almost  the  very  period  of 
marrying  my  first  love,  for  whom  I  felt  an  afiection 
as  intense  and  exclusive  as  nature  knows,  could  I 
jeopard  all  by  a  new  condition,  and  one,  too,  so  ex- 
ceeding hard  as  the  present  was  ?  The  interval  be- 
tween the  death  of  my  father  and  the  session  of  Con- 
ference allowed  of  but  a  brief  visit  on  my  way  to  the 
Conference.  Conscience  had  triumphed ;  but  ter- 
rible was  the  suspense  till  I  might  know  what  that 
triumph  ■  was  to  cost  me.  The  cost,  however,  I 
found  to  be  no  more  than  a  smile  of  sweet  approval. 

Conference  was  held  in  Charleston  late  in  the 
month  of  December.  At  this  I  was  ordained  elder, 
by  Bishop  McKendree,  in  Bethel  church,  Sunday, 
December  26th,  1812,  having  completed  four  years 
from  the  time  of  my  admission  on  trial.  My  ap- 
pointment was  fixed  for  Wilmington,  Xorth  Carolina. 
At  the  appointed  time,  (Thursday  evening,  January 
13th,  1813,)  I  was  married  to  Miss  Anna  White, 
daughter  of  John  White,  Esq.,  (deceased,)  of  George- 
town District ;  and  on  the  following  Monday  we  set 
out  for  Wilmington,  and  reached  it  on  Friday  the 
21st.  We  had  been  there  but  a  week  or  two  when  we 
had  the  honor  of  entertaining  Bishop  Asbuiy  and 
his  excellent  attendant,  brother  Boehm,  who  passed 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


161 


a  Sabbath  in  Wilmington.  These  were  our  first 
guests  in  our  first  dwelling-place,  the  parsonage, 
which  I  might  call  either  a  two-story  dwelling- 
house,  or  a  shanty,  according  to  my  humor.  It 
Avas  a  two-story  house,  actually  erected  in  that 
form,  and  no  mistake,  with  its  first  story  eight  feet 
liigh,  and  the  second  between  six  and  seven ; 
quite  high  enough  for  a  man  to  stand  in  it  with 
his  hat  off,  as  men  always  ought  to  stand  when  in 
a  house.  The  stories,  to  be  sure,  were  not  exces- 
sive as  to  length  and  breadth  any  more  than  height; 
each  story  constituting  a  room  of  some  eighteen 
feet  by  twelve  or  fourteen,  and  the  upper  one 
having  the  benefit  of  a  sort  of  step-ladder  on  the 
outside  of  the  edifice,  to  render  it  accessible,  when 
it  might  not  rain  too  hard,  or  with  an  umbrella 
when  it  did  rain,  if  the  wind  did  not  blow  too  hard. 
And  besides  this,  there  was  a  room  constructed  by 
a  shed  at  one  side  of  the  main  building,  which,  as 
madam  might  not  relish  going  out  of  doors  and  up 
a  step-ladder  on  her  way  to  bed,  especially  in  rainy 
weather,  wa^  appropriated  to  her  use  as  a  bed- 
chamber. But  we  were  content.  A  palace  might 
scarcely  have  been  appreciated  by  us,  who,  by  the 
grace  of  God,  had  in  ourselves  and  each  other  a 
sufiiciency  for  happiness.  This  house,  the  church, 
(a  coarse  wooden  structure,  of  some  sixty  feet  by 
forty,)  the  lots  they  stood  on,  and  several  adjoining 
lots,  rented  to  free  negroes,  had  belonged  to  "^Ir. 
Meredith,  and  had  been  procured,  for  the  most  part, 
by  means  of  penny  collections  among  the  negroes, 
6 


162 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


who  almost  exclusively  had  composed  his  congre- 
gation. He  had  been  a  Wesleyan  missionary  to 
the  negroes  of  one  of  the  AYest  India  Islands,  I 
think  Jamaica  or  St.  Kit's.  And  after  Mr.  Hammett 
came  over  to  Charleston,  and  had  got  under  way  in 
his  enterprise  of  establishing  a  pure  Wesleyan 
Church,  in  opposition  to  the  Asburyan,  as  he  called 
it,  he  induced  Mr.  Meredith  to  come  over  also  and 
join  him.  But  he  was  not  long  satisfied  with  Mr. 
Hammett,  whose  influence  over  him  was  sufficient 
to  prevent  him  from  joining  the  Methodist  Episco- 
pal Church,  but  could  not  retain^  him  among  the 
"Primitive  Methodists,"  as  Mr.  Hammett  called 
his  followers.  And  so,  parting  with  Mr.  Hammett, 
he  came  to  Wilmington,  and  began  jjreaching  to 
the  negroes.  Here  his  history  was  very  like  that 
of  the  colored  man,  Henry  Evans,  at  Fayetteville. 
He  was  subjected  to  all  manner  of  annoyances,  and 
even  injuries,  which  he  bore  with  unresisting  meek- 
ness till  he  had  worn  his  persecutors  out.  At  one 
time  he  was  put  in  jail,  and  he  obliged  them  to  let 
him  out  by  preaching  through  the  grates  of  his 
window  to  whoever  might  be  in  the  street  below. 
And  when,  after  several  years,  things  becoming 
more  quiet,  he  ventured  to  build  a  meeting-house, 
it  was  burned  to  the  ground.  At  last,  however, 
Mr.  Meredith  gained  the  public  confidence,  and  at 
his  death  willed  in  fee  simple  to  Bishop  Asbury  a 
second  meeting-house  built  on  the  site  of  the  first, 
the  parsonage-house  above  described,  and  the  lands 
belonging  to  them ;   all  which,  of  course,  the 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


163 


Bishop  turned  over  to  the  Church ;  which,  along 
with  the  property,  acquired  also  the  congregation 
and  communicant  members. 

This  case  of  the  labors  and  persecutions  of  Mr, 
Meredith  in  Wilmington,  like  that  of  Ilenry  Evans 
in  Fayetteville,  illustrates  as  strikingly  as  any  thing 
else  might  which  has  occurred  in  our  country,  how 
sadly  the  spiritual  wants  of  the  negroes  had  been 
overlooked  in  early  times.  A  numerous  popula- 
tion of  this  class  in  that  town  and  vicinity  were  as 
destitute  of  any  public  instruction,  (or,  probably, 
instruction  of  any  kind  as  to  spiritual  things,)  as 
if  they  had  not  been  believed  to  be  men  at  all,  and 
their  morals  were  as  depraved  as,  with  such  a  des- 
titution of  the  gospel  among  them,  might  have 
been  expected ;  and  yet  it  seems  not  to  have  been- 
considered  that  such  a  state  of  things  might  fur- 
nish motives  sufficient  to  induce  pure-minded  men 
^-  to  engage,  at  great  inconven,ience  and  even  per- 
sonal hazard,  in  the  work  of  reforming  them. 
Such  a  work,  on  the  other  hand,  seems  to  have 
been  regarded  unnecessary,  if  not  unreasonable. 
Conscience  was  not  believed  to  be  concerned  in  it. 
And,  unhappily,  that  fatal  action  of  our  General 
Conference,  by  which  it  had  assumed  the  right  of 
interfering,  at  least  by  memorial  and  remonstrance 
to  the  Legislatures,  with  the  civil  condition  of  the 
negroes,  had  aroused  apprehension  for  the  public 
safety.  The  opposition  to  Mr.  Meredith  is  not, 
therefore,  to  be  wondered  at,  though  deeply  to  be 
regretted;  and  the  fact  that  it  ceased  when  the  pub* 


164  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

lie  mind  had  become  satisfied  of  tlie  harmlessness 
of  his  labofs,  shows  that  it  did  not  proceed  from 
any  worse  motive  than  an  apprehension  of  evil. 

At  the  time  of  my  going  to  "Wilmington,  Mr. 
Meredith's  church  and  peoj)le  had  been  transferred 
to  Mr.  Asbury's  care,  and  incorporated  with  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  as  a  portion  .of  it. 
iSTevertheless,  the  offence  of  the  cross  had  not 
ceased.  It  seemed  to  be  admitted  on  all  hands 
that  the  Methodists  were,  on  the  whole,  a  good  sort 
of  enthusiasts,  and  their  religion  very  well  suited 
to  the  lower  classes,  who  needed  to  be  kept  con- 
stantly in  terror  of  hell-fire.  For  the  negroes,  in 
particular,  it  was  deemed  most  excellent.  For  as 
it  was  looked  upon  as  substituting  passion  for  prin- 
ciple, and  feeling  for  the  law  of  God,  yet  so  as  to 
make  its  passion  a  religious  one,  and  its  feeling  a 
matter  of  conscience,  and  both  to  be  in  a  ferment 
of  zeal  against  all  manner  of  sin,  it  was  thought 
exactly  to  suit  those  whose  passions  were  the 
strongest  and  their  understanding  weakest.  The 
negro  church,  or  meeting-house,  was  a  common 
appellative  for  this  Methodist  church  long  after  it 
had  been  occu^ned  by  whites  on  the  lower  floor, 
with  the  negroes  in  the  galleries.  And  it  was  so 
in  my  day.  But  notwithstanding  all  this,  gentle- 
men and  ladies,  of  high  position  in  society,  were 
to  be/ound  from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath  attending  our 
preaching.  Could  it  have  been  that  they  wanted 
to  participate  in  the  Methodist  religion  of  passion 
without  principle  ?    Or  was  it  that  their  superior 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


165 


sort  of  religion  having  tauglit  them  to  condescend 
to  men  of  low  estate,  they  were  only  practicing  the 
principle  of  htlmility  ?  However  it  may  have  been 
with  them,  the  sermons  they  heard  for  the  whole 
year  from  my  pulpit  were  taken  up  in  stating, 
proving,  and  urging  justification  by  faith,  and  its 
cognate  doctrines  of  original  depravity,  regenera- 
tion, and  the  witness  of  the  Spirit.  These  themes 
appeared  inexhaustible  to  the  preacher,  and  this 
portion  of  his  hearers  never  grew  less  for  his  dwell- 
,^  ing  on  then:i,  though  they  wondered  how  such 
,  things  could  possibly  be  true.  It  cost  them,  how- 
ever, some  disquietude,  of  which  you  may  take  the 
following  for  a  sample:  Mrs.  G-.,  of  the  first  class 
of  the  upper  sort,  had  become  so  much  interested 
in  what  she  had  heard,  as  to  seek  a  conversation 
with  me  under  cover  of  a  call  on  Mrs.  Capers ; 
and  Mrs.  W.,  her  sister,  deemed  it  prudent  to  ac- 
company her,  for  the  reason,  I  suppose,  that  she 
(Mrs.  W.)  held  her  understanding  to  be  better  than 
her  sister's,  and  that  she  was  better  established  in 
the  old  creed.  The  conversation,  therefore,  was 
conducted,  for  the  most  part,  by  Mrs.  W.,  who 
thought  it  impossible  for  me  actually  to  mean  that 
common  people  could  know  their  sins  forgiven 
since  the  apostles'  day.  Statement  after  statement 
was  made  on  my  part,  and  passage  upon  passage 
quoted  from  the  Scriptures,  while  she  continued  to 
reply  almost  in  the  very  words  of  Mcodemus, 
''How  can  these  things  be?"  Mrs.  G.,  meanwhile, 
was  showing  pretty  unmistakable  S3rmptoms  of  un^ 


166  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

easiness,  as  if  she  apprehended  that  their  unbelief 
might  not  be  sufficient  to  "make  the  faith  of  God 
Avithout  effect,"  when,  as  a  last  resort,  Mrs.  W., 
turning  to  Mrs.  Capers,  said,  "Well,  Mrs.  Capers, 
it  must  be  a  very  high  state  of  grace  this  which 
3^0 ur  husband  talks  about,  and  I  dare  say  some  very 
saintly  persons  may  have  experienced  it,  but  as  for 
us,  it  must  be  quite  above  our  reach.  I  am  sure 
you  do  not  profess  it,  do  you?"  Mrs.  C.  blushed 
deeply,  and  replied  in  a  soft  but  firm  tone  of  voice, 
"  Yes,  ma'am,  I  experienced  it  at  Rembert's  camp- 
meeting,  year  before  last,  and  by  the  grace  of  God 
I  still  have  the  witness  of  it."  And  I  will  add,  ; 
that  if  Mrs.  W.  felt  discomfited,  Mrs.  G.  lost  not 
the  benefit  of  that  interview,  but  obtained  the 
same  grace,  and  died  not  long  afterwards  in  the 
peace  and  comfort  which  it  inspires. 

In  addition  to  my  work  in  Wilmington,  and 
as  a  part  of  my  pastoral  charge,  there  was  a  meet- 
ing-house on  the  Sound,  across  the  neck  of  land 
between  Cape  Fear  and  the  sea,  eight  miles  from 
town,  which  I  preached  at  on  "Wednesdays.  It 
was  a  cabin  of  pine  poles  notched  into  each  other, 
which  that  saintly  young  minister,  Richmond  ISlol- 
1^,  had  built,  mostly  with  his  own  hands,  when 
stationed  at  Wilmington,  for  the  use  (if  they 
would  use  it)  and  benefit  (if  they  would  be  bene- 
fited by  it)  of  the  lowest  and  laziest  set  of  white 
people  that  it  has  been  my  fortune  to  fall  in  with./ 
They  had  come  from  nobody  knew  where,  and 
squatted  in  little  huts  about  the  margin  of  the 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


167 


Sound,  (on  lands  whicli  I  suppose  no  one  cared  to 
pay  taxes  for,  and  not  an  acre  of  which  thc}^  meant 
to  cultivate,)  for  the  benefit  of  living  ^  without 
labor,  or  as  nearly  so  as  possible.  And  their  mode 
of  subsistence  was  by  catching  fish,  which  they 
took  with  a  seine  once  or  twice  a  w^eek,  and,  taking 
them  to  market,  purchased,  by  the  sale  of  them, 
bacon,  meal,  and  whisky,  or  rather,  whisky, 
meal,  and  bacon.  I  generally  found  them,  if  I. 
found  them  at  all,  basking  in  the  sun,  or  lounging 
in  the  shade ;  and  such  as  I  could  induce  to  go 
with  me  to  the  meeting-house  constituted  my  con- 
gregations. I  could  do  nothing  for  them ;  but 
though  I  still  eked  out  the  time  of  serving  them,  I 
did  not  return  them  to  the  Conference  as  belonging 
to  our  charge. 

Such  were  the  extremes  of  character  and  con- 
dition with  which  I  had  to  do.  Of  my  flock  in 
town,  while  much  the  greater  number  w^ere  negroes, 
the  whites  were  very  poor,  or  barely  able  to  sup- 
port themselves  with  decency.  Here,  too,  none  of 
the  wise  men  after  the  flesh,  nor  mighty,  nor  noble 
were  called.  Indeed,  of  the  men  of  this  class,  I 
know  not  that  there  was  one,  and  believe  that  if 
one,  there  was  but  one,  who  belonged  to  any  Chur^^h. 
at  all  as  a  communicant.  They  were,  very  gene- 
rally at  least,  too  much  tinctured  with  the  French, 
deistical  philosophy  for  that.  Of  churches  in  the 
town,  claiming  for  mine  to  be  one,  there  was  but 
one  other,  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  of 
which  the  Rev.  'Adam  Empie  was  rector.  Com- 


168  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

paring  numlDers  between  the  churclies  as  to  white 
members  communing  in  each.  I  had  the  advantage 
of  Mr.  (since  Dr.)  Empie ;  having  some  ten  or  a 
dozen  males  to  his  doubtful  one^  while  the  females 
may  have  been  about  equally  divided  as  to  num- 
bers ;  giving  him,  however,  and  his  Church,  the 
prestige  of  worldly  wealth  and  honor.  For  support, 
as  far  as  any  was  to  be  had,  I  was  dependent  mainly 
on  my  colored  charge,  Avhose  class  collections, 
added  to  the  collection  which  was  made  in  the 
congregation  weekly,  may  have  produced  six  or 
seveM  dollars  a  week  for  all  purposes.  I  had  not 
expected  such  a  deficiency,  and  was  not  provided 
against  it;  and  before  I  could  command  means 
from  home,  my  very  last  penny  was  expended. 
"\^Tiat  small  things  may  prove  important  to  us,  and 
incidents  of  little  moment  in  themselves,  interest 
us  deeply  by  their  connections.  Here  was  one. 
It  happened  that  I  had  carried  to  market  and  ex- 
pended for  a  fish,  (because  it  was  the  cheapest 
food,)  the  last  penny  I  possessed.  And  this  was 
on  the  morning  of  the  day  when  I  should  expect 
the  Presiding  Elder  on  his  first  quarterly  round ; 
and  that  Presiding  Elder  was  Daniel  Asbury,  who 
had  sustained  the  same  relation  to  me  during  my 
first  two  years,  and  was  beloved  and  honored  next 
to  brother  Gassaway.  And  there  was  no  place  for 
him  but  the  parsonage  ;  or  if  there  was  for  himself, 
there  was  not  for  his  horse.  In  such  circumstances 
nothins:  mio^ht  seem  easier  than  to  meet  the  emer- 
gency  by  borrowing.    But  should*  I  go  to  a  bank 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


169 


to  borrow  so  little  as  a  dollar  or  two  ?  And  of  my 
flock  I  feared  to-  ask  a  loan  of  so  much,  lest  it 
should  be  more  than  my  brother  could  spare,  and 
for  the  pain  it  should  give  him  should  he  not  be 
able  to  oblige  me  in  so  smajl  a  matter  and  so  grisat 
a  need ;  and  as  the/  Jeast  of  the  evils  before  me,  I  • 
"ooncludcd  to  await  my  friend's  coming,  and  borrow 
from  himself  what  might  be  needed  during  his 
stay.  He  came  in  time  for  a  share  of  the  fish  at 
dinner,  but  before  it  had  been  produced  paid  me 
two  hundred  dollars  which  h^d  been  gent,  very 
unexpectedly,  by  him  for  my  use.  If  it  had  been 
but  two  dollars,  I  cannot  tell  the  value  I  should 
have  put  upon  it ;  but  to  receive  two  hundred  dol- 
lars just  at  that  j^mcture,  made  me  rich  indeed. 

In  the  month  of  June  I  suffered  an  extreme 
illness  of  bilious  fever,  insomuch  that  my  life  was 
well-nigh  despaired  of ;  and  as  soon  as  I  could  get 
into  a  carriage  and  ride  to  the  wharf,  my  physician 
sent  me  to  Smithville  to  facilitate  convalescence. 
You  will  remember  that  this  was  during  the  war 
with  Great  Britain ;  and  a  few  days  after  we  had 
arrived  at  Smithville,  the  news  was  brought  of 
the  enemy  having  landed  at  Ocracock  and  per- 
petrated many  outrages.  The  facts  truly  stated 
were  bad  enough  to  excite  alarm,  as  we  had  rea- 
son to  expect  that  Wilmington  would  be  the  next 
point  of  attack ;  or  Smithville  rather,  on  the  way 
to  Wilmington ;  but  as  the  story  was  told  with 
great  exaggerations,  nothing  might  be  more  terri- 
fying than  this  intelligence  wa&.  We  therefore 
8 


170 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


took  tlie  first  packet  for  our  return  to  Wilmington, 
intending  to  place  Mrs.  Gapers  for  safety  with  our 
friends,  Francis  A.  Allston  and  sisters,  on  Town 
creek,  ten  miles  off  from  Wilmington,  and  nearly 
as  far  from  the  Cape  Fear  river.  Having  done 
this,  my  purpose  was  to  return  immediately  to 
Wilmington,  to  meet  with  my  people  whatever 
might  come.  iTo  time  was  lost  in  the  execution  of 
niy  plan  as  far  as  respected  Mrs.  Capers ;  but  the 
weather  was  wet,  and  the  night  of  our  arrival  at 
brother  Allston's,  the  next  day,  and  following 
•night,  gave  us  such  a  flood  of  rain  as  had  not  been 
known  for  several  years.  On  the  second  day  I  set 
out  for  Wilmington,  and  getting  to  the  South 
Ferry,  learned  that  the  freshet  ha^  carried  away  so 
much  of  the  causeway  between  that  place  and 
town,  that  a  horse  could  not  be  got  over  it,  and 
the  only  practicable  way  of  going  would  be  on 
foot.  The  distance  to  the  ITorth  Ferry  (at  town) 
w^as  two  miles,  all  under  water,  and  much  of  it 
knee-deep,  or  more,  besides  the  liability  of  falling 
between  the  loosened  or  removed  puncheons,  and 
getting  wet  all  over.  The  day  was  hot,  and  it  was 
noon,  with  the  sun  beaming  forth  without  a  cloud ; 
nor  was  there  tree  or  shrub  for  shade.  I  sent  my 
horse  back,  and  undertook  it.  A  fever  came  on 
before  I  had  gone  far,  and  I  suffered  a  burning 
thirst.  To  drink  the  water  of  the  swamp  I  was 
afraid ;  but,  luckily  for  me,  my  kind  friends  had 
given  me  a  bottle  of  a  strong  decoction  of  cherry 
bark,  dogwood,,  and  hoarhound,  for  me  to  take 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


171 


by  the  wineglassful  as  a  tonic ;  and  bittelf  as  it 
was  I  drank  it  up,  applying  the  bottle  to  my 
lips,  of  very  thirst.  ^  I  got  to  the  house  of  sister 
Howe,  in  Wilmington,  and  to  bed;  sweated  oft' 
my  fever,  and  had  no  more  of  it.  The  British 
never  came.  - 

Can  you  now  have  patience  for  another  witch 
story  ?  There  were  two  old  negro  women  belong- 
ing to  the  Church  in  Wilmington,  (Clarinda  and 
Lucy,)  who  had  been  held  in  high  esteem  from  the 
beginning ;  and,  indeed,  except  for  this  witchcraft 
affa;ir,  deserved  the  reputation  of  hieing  as  good 
as  the  best  of  our  colored  members.  But  Cla- 
rinda fell  under  a  persuasion  that  Lucy  was  a 
witch,  and  had  such  proofs  of  it  as  poor  old  Lucy 
could  not  disprove.  The  question  between  them 
was  of  long  standing,  as  to  the  general  charge, 
and  the  specifications  numerous :  of  which,  such 
as  had  transpired  more  than  a  year  before  had 
been  adjudicated  by  my  predecessor;  who  gave 
sentence  that  there  was  no  such  thing  as  witch  or 
witchcraft,  and  that  Clarinda  must  renounce  her 
superstition,  and  become  reconciled  to  her  sister, 
or  be  excluded  the  Church.  But  this  summary 
process  did  not  answer.  The  old  sore  remained 
unhealed,  and  soon  broke  out  afresh ;  so  that  Lucy 
still  lay  under  the  imputation  of  being  a  witch. 
Clarinda  charged  against  her,  that  on  the  day  of 
trial,  there  in  presence  of  the  preacher,  Lucy  had 
abused  her  triumph  by  bewitching  her.  And  the 
Bpecification  was,  that  when,  doing  as  she  had  been 


172 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


required  to  do,  slie  (Clarinda)  gave  her  hand  to 
Luc  J,  she,  (Lucy,)  by  the  power  of  her  art,  which 
no  Christian  could  exercise,  caused  the  hand  which 
she  held  in  hers  to  itch  and  burn  unnaturally; 
and  caused  this  itching  and  burning  to  extend  to 
all  her  limbs,  and  break  out  in  frightful  sores,  the 
scars  of  which  she  still  carried.  All  which,  Lucy, 
of  course,  denied  stoutly.  And  now  what  was  the 
preacher  to  do  with  such  a  case  ?  To  reaffirm  with 
my  predecessor  that  the  charge  w^as  absurd,  could 
be  of  no  avail,  for  Clarinda's  protest  of  "  What  I 
feel  I  feel,  for  all  my  preacher  say  there  a'n't  no 
witch,"  deserved  some  consideration.  It  was  con- 
ceded that  if  Lucy  had  bewitched  Clarinda,  she 
niust  of  consequence  be  a  witch ;  and  that  if  she 
was  a  witch  she  could  not  be  a  Christian.  All 
that' was  plain.  But  I  instituted  a  new  question, 
wdiich  was,  whether  if  Clarinda  was  indeed  a 
Christian,  and  no  mistake,  it  might  be  possible 
for  her  to  be  witched  by  Lucy,  or  any  one  else  who 
should  attempt  it?  Would  Clarinda  consent  for 
the  Bible  to  answer  this  question  ?  Of  course  she 
would ;  she  might  not  desire  any  thing  els€.  And 
I  read  from  the  Bible  as  its  answer,  ISTumbers 
xxxiii.  23,  "  Surely  there  is  no  enchantment  against 
Jacob,  neither  is  there  any  divination  against 
Israel."  This  was  a  point  in  the  case  that  altered 
the  case,  and  turned  the  force  of  the  protest, 
("what  I  feel  I  feel,")  as  strongly  against  Clarinda 
as  against  Lucy.  And  now,  from  one  and  the 
other,  I  required  to  know  particularly  on  what 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  173 

grounds  their  profession  of  belonging  to  Jacob 
rested.  Each  told  her  experience  at  length,  tvhile 
I  listened  with  close  attention.  Can  you  both  be 
deceived?"  said  I,  "for  if  one  isj  the  other  may  be." 
And  turning  to  the  complainant,  I  asked  with  em- 
phasis, "  Olarinda,  are  you  right  sure  that  you  arc 
a  Christian  ?"  She  was  deeply  troubled,  but  an- 
swered in  the  affirmative.  "  How  then,"  I  rejoined, 
"was  it  possible'"  for  Lucy  to  witch  you?"  She 
seemed  utterly  confounded ;  and  I  relieved  her  by 
,  reading  Job  ii.  1-8,  and  by  remarking  briefly  on 
it,  to  tho  effect,  that  what  witches  could  not  do, 
Satan  might,  and  he  might  possibly  have  had  power 
to  afflict  her  as  she  had ,  been  afllicted ;  and  may 
have  done  it  at  the  very  time  specified,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  producing  the  niischief  which  had  come  of 
it.  The  spell  was .  now  broken.  They  embraced 
each  other,  and  remained  for  the  rest  of  their  lives 
in  peace  together.  It  is  better  to  condescend  to 
the  weakness  of  others,  than  attempt  their  correc- 
tion by  main  strength.  'Nor  is  it  an  act  of  great 
condescension  to  suffer  a  weakness,  where  there  is 
evident  goodness  in  the  weak  brother. 

I  had  great  satisfaction  in  my  labors  among  this 
class  of  my  people.  The  Church  planted  among 
them  by  Mr.  Meredith  in  troublous  times  had  been 
well  disciplined,  and  furnished  our  leaders  and 
principal  members  at  present,  who -  exerted  a  salu- 
tary influence  on  the  younger,  both  by  their  good 
example  in  all  things,  and  their  zealous  exhorta- 
tions.   The  preacher  they  regarded  as  their  best 


174 


LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


friend,  whose  counsel  they  should  follow  as  from 
God.  Trials  were  rare ;  and  there  was  a  constant 
increase  of  numbers.  And  I  say  in  sincerity,  that 
I  believe  I  have  never  served  a  more  Christian- 
hearted  people,  unless  those  were  so  with  whom  I 
was  associated  at  the  same  time  among  the  whites. 
Among  these,  (the  whites,)  I  have  no  recollection 
of  a  single  trial,  nor  cause  for  one,  during  the  year. 
And  whilst  offences  were  avoided,  our  seasons  of 
Christian  fellowship,  in  the  prayer-meetings,  the 
class-meetings,  the  love-feast,  were  appreciated  as 
they  should  be  by  the  whole  society,  and  were  very 
refreshing.  Of  the  people  of  the  community  I  re- 
ceived nothing  worse  than  marks  of  respect.  De- 
traction had  lost  its  tongue.  The  negro  meeting- 
house was  become  the  Methodist  church,  and  the 
stories  about  what  the  Methodists  believed,  and  how 
they  managed  their  secret  meetings,  seemed  to  be 
forgotten.  But  what  was  more  interesting  to  me, 
my  earnest  reasonings  from  Scripture  began  to  be 
followed  with  fruit  among  the  upper  circle,  of  whom 
several  were  fully  convinced  of  the  truth,  and  were 
seeking  to  be  justified  by  faith  without  the  works 
of  the  law.  The  way  was  thus  prepared  for  my 
successor,  (the  Rev.  Samuel  K.  Hodges,)  who  reaped 
more  than  a  golden  harvest. 

I  have  to  conclude  this  Conference  year  (for  the 
calendar  year  was  out)  with  one  of  those  adventures 
which  I  have  never  looked  back  upon  without  a 
shudder.  I  will  relate  it  in  the  barest  statement 
of  the  facts,  and  if  they  make,  me  to  have  been  a 


A  U  T  0  L  I  0  a  E  A  P  u  y. 


175 


fool  or  madmau,  very  well;  I  can  only  say  I  was 
young,  and  none  of  the  older  persons  who  were 
cognizant  of  the  facts  said  nay,  at  the  time.  Con- 
ference this  year  came  Ikte,  being  held  in  January 
instead  of  December,  the  usual  Conference  month. 
The  place  of  its  session  was  Fayetteyille,  eighty 
miles  above  "Wilmington.  I  could  not  attend  it, 
becaiise  of  Mrs.  Capers  expecting  to  be  confined  at 
that  very  time.  But  the  time  was  come ;  the  Con- 
ference session  was  over ;  and  in  three  days  more 
Bishop  Asbury  and  one  or  two  others  would  be 
with  us  in  that  shanty  parsonage,  to  pass  several 
days  on  the  Bishop's  annual  visitation.  Besides, 
there  would  probably  come  with  the  Bishop  the 
preacher  of  the  opening  year,  whose  would  then  be 
the  right  of  occupancy.  We  must  leave  the  par- 
sonage. To  add  to  my  perplexity,  all  the  ready 
money  at  my  command  had  been  reduced  to  a  mere 
trifle,  absolutely  insufficient  to  pay  board  a'nywhere 
for  the  time  before  us ;  not  to  mention  a  particular 
fee  of  twenty  dollars  ;  and  my  father's  estate  having 
gone  into  the  hands  of  an  indifferent  person  for  its 
management,  nothing  could  be  commanded  from 
that  quarter ;  and  to  cap  it  all,  there  was  not  one 
of  our  friends  belonging  to  the  Church  in  Wilming- 
ton who  could  bear  the  burden  of  accommodating 
us.  In  this  condition  of  things,  as  we  were  sitting 
at  breakfast,  more  gay  than  sad  under  it  all,  having 
our  good  friend,  sister  Barrett,  with  us,  (since  better 
known  in  Wilmington  as  both  a  person  of  great 
worth  and  usefulness,)  I  bantered  her  to  carry  Anna 


176  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

home  to  her  mother.  "  That  I  will,"  she  answered, 
if  jou  will  go  with  us."  The  jest  was  carried  on 
between  us  by  fixing  stages  on  the  road  at  conve- 
nient distances,  where,  at  the  worst,  it  would  be  as 
well  for  Mrs.  Capers  as  at  the  parsonage,  till  we 
talked  ourselves  into  a  serious  meaning  of  what  we 
said.  Arrangements  were  instantly  made,  and  that 
night  we  were  at  the  house  of  our  friends  Allston, 
ten  miles  from  Wilmington.  The  house  of  our 
friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  ."William  Gause,  on  Shallot, 
thirty  miles  farther  on,  over  a  smooth  road,  was  to 
be  the  next  stage,  if  we  made  another.  At .  either 
of  these  places  we  should  be  in  clover,  and  might 
be  sure  of  a  hearty  welcome  for  any  length  of  time. 
At  brother  AUston's,  (Mrs.  Capers  appearing  ex- 
ceeding well  in  the  morning  and  inclined  to  it,)  we 
concluded  to  set  out  for  brother  Gause's ;  reached 
there  about  5  o'clock ;  and  at  10,  I  was  a  father. 
It  was  on  the  18th  January,  1814 ;  and  the  child 
then  born  under  circumstances  so  peculiarly  trying 
and  specially  providential,  has,  thus  £ar,  been  par- 
ticularly favored  through  life,  having  enjoyed  alnaost 
entire  exemption  from  disease,  and  given  birth  to 
nine  children,  of  whom  eight  are  living  at  this  date, 
(1851.)  ,1  happen  to  pen  this  in  an  apartment  of 
the  Wesleyan  Female  College,  at  Macon,  Georgia, 
of  w^hich  her  husband  has  been  president  for  the 
last  ten  years. 

My  appointment  for  1814  was  Santee  Circuit-, 
and  after  Mrs.  Capers  had  perfectly  recovered,  and 
it  was  safe  beyond  doubt  for  her  to  take  the  road 


A  U  TOBIOGRAPHY.  177 

again,  we  took  leave  of  our  most  kind  friends  at 
Shallot,  and  Avent  to  her  mother's ;  where  leaving 
her  till  I  should  have  made  a  round  on  my  circuit, 
I  went  to  my  work.  You  will  remember  that  this 
was  the  circuit  in  which  our  family  lived.  My 
honored  father  was  no  more.  My  brother-in-law, 
Maj.  Legrand  Guerry,  and  my  uncle,  Capt.  George 
S.  Capers,  and  my  aunt  his  wife,  had  £ilso  passed  to 
their  heavenly  rest.  My  uncle  was  the  first,  having 
died  in  1809 ;  my  brother-in-law  followed  in  1811 ; 
my  father  in  1812 ;  and  my  aunt  in  1813.  And 
what  a  vacuum  Was  here !  But  meanwhile  my 
brother  Gabriel  (who  had  married  the  daughter  of 
the  Rev.  Thomas  Humphries,  my  old  friend  of  J ef- 
fers'  creek,  in  Darlington  District)  was  settled  atLo- 
debar,  in  the  neighborhood  of  my  sister ;  who  had 
now  married  a  second  husband,  the  Rev.  Thomas  D. 
Glenn ;  and  our  venerable  friend,  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Humphries,  had  been  induced  to  remove  his  resi- 
dence into  the  same  neighborhood  also.  There 
was,  therefore,  still  a  great  interest  for  us  in  that 
neighborhood;  and  it  was  arranged  for  Mrs. 
Capers  to  divide  her  time  with  my  brother  and 
sister,  during  our  continuance  in  the  circuit.  Cir- 
cumstanced as  I  was,  there  was  np  other  appoint- 
ment in  the  Conference  so  convenient  as  this,  and 
no  other  so  desirable ;  but  of  my  work  I  have  no 
more  to  say,  than  that,  from  the  time  of  getting  to 
it,  the  appointments  were  regularly  filled  without 
exception  through  the  year,  the  attendance  on 
preaching  and  at  class  was  good,  and  we  had  an- 
8* 


178  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

other  good  camp-meeting  at  the  old  place,  'Rem- 
bert's.  Good  was  done,  perhaps  much  good,  but 
every  thing  went  on  so  uniformly  as  to  furnish 
nothing  for  a  recollection  at  the  present  date,  is'e- 
vertheless,  it  was  an  eventful  year  to  me — ^perhaps 
no  other  one  ifiore  so.  It  was  my  second  year  of 
married  life  in  the  Methodist  itinerancy.  The  ex- 
periment of  such  a  mode  of  life  seemed  fully  made, 
by  the  last  year  spent  as  a  stationed  preacher,  occu- 
pying one  of  the  three  parsonage-houses  belonging 
to  the  Conference  ; '  and  now  this  year  which  I  was 
spending  on  a  circuit,  the  circuit  at  home,  with  my 
wife  and  child  staying  alternately  with  my  broth.er  . 
and  sister.  At  least,  there  was  no  other  more  favor- ' 
able  experiment  that  might  have  been  made  for 
these  two  years,  and  no  other  practicable  for  the 
future.  And  what  was  I  to  make  of  it  ?  In  Wil- 
mington, with  my  wife  alone,  it  had  cost  me  three 
hundred  dollars  to  procure  subsistence  of  the  most 
frugal  kind  ;  a  sum  of  between  one  hundred  and 
fifty  and  two  hundred  dollars  having  been  all  that 
the  collections  could  furnish  for  all  purposes  above 
what  was  necessary  for  keeping  the  church  open 
and  in  order.  In  the  circuit,  (any  circuit,)  I  might 
receive  eighty  dollars  for  myself,  eighty  dollars  for 
my  wife,  my  travelling  expenses,  (which  were  then 
understood  to  take  in  little  more  than  the  cost  of 
horse-shoeing  and  ferriage,)  and  no  more.  It  had 
been  ascertained  that  my  father's  removal,  and 
change  of  his  planting  interest  from  rice  to  cotton^ 
just  before  the  embargo  and  war,  had  seriously  in- 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


179 


volved  his  estate,  which  might  he  harely  sufficient 
for  his  widow  and  three  little  sons  by  her ;  and  we, 
of  the  first  marriage,  must  he  content  with  sharing 
among  us  a  legacy  from  our  grandfather  Singel- 
tary,  for  our  patrimony,  except  only,  on  my  part,  a 
small  farm  which  my  father  had  given  me  in  anti- 
cipation of  my  marriage. 

I  was  not  avaricious.  I  hope  I  never  have  been. 
For  myself,  any  thing  might  answer,  if  I  was  not 
even  emulous  of  excelling  in  ascetic  virtue.  But 
there  were  two  things  which  I  could  not  brook  : 
the  exposure  of  my  wife  to  hardships,  was  one ; 
and  to  be  made  dependent  on  individuals  who 
might  regard  me  burdensome,  was  the  other.  And 
while  for  the  present  year  we  were  not  involved  in 
either  of  these  evils,  but  were  as  happily  situated 
as  we  could  desire  with  those  who  loved  us  as  them- 
selves, it  was  plain  that  there  was  no  next  appoint- 
ment for  us  which  might  not  involye  us  in  them. 
The, general  policy  of  the  Church,  sustained  by  the 
opinion  of  a  majority  of  the  preachers  and  people, 
was  against  the  preachers'  marrying,  and  therefore 
against  any  provision  for  the  support  of  preachers' 
families  which  might  encourage  their  marrying. 
For  a  preacher  to  take  a  family  about  from  circuit 
to  circuit  was  out  of  the  question,  except  he  should 
board  them  at  his  own  expense,  or  place  them  (as 
for  the  present  year  I  had  done)  with  particular 
friends  living  in  the  circuit.  'No  circuit  would 
make  any  provision  for  them,  and  the  Discipline 
required  none  to  be  made.   The  few  who  had  wives 


180  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPEKS. 

had  homes  for  them,  and  I  too  must  have  a  home 
for  my  wife,  of  necessity.  But  there  appeared  no 
way  for  me  to  procure  such  a  home  without  locat- 
ing. My  farm  was  unsettled,  and  to  settle  it  niust 
require  jny  presence.  And  besides  that,  it  would 
require  money  ;  which  I  had  not,  and  which  I  might 
not  obtain  by  the  sale  of  property,  for  the  reason 
that  I  had  none  which  I  might  sell  without  dimin- 
ishing a  barely  sufficient  force  for  farming  at  all. 
It  must  be  borrowed;  and  then  it  would  require 
my  personal  exertions  to  pay  it  back  again.  T\^ith 
these  views,  I  applied  for  a  location,  and  was  located 
at  the  Conference  in  Charleston,  December,  1814, 
after  having  travelled  but  six  years. 

Thus  I  became  involved  in  the  cares  of  this  life. 
My  whole  plan  was,  immediately  to  go  to  work  to" 
settle  my  farm  in  an  humble  but  comfortable  man- 
ner, and  make  a  crop  of  provisions  ;■  and  as  soon 
as  I  should  get  ready,  take  into  my  family  a  few 
boys,  (not  more  than  eight  or  ten,)  to  be  educated 
at  a  certain  price.  And  as  I  apprehend  it  may  be 
thought  that  I  was,  at  least  in  part,  influenced  hj 
my  wife  to  this  great  change  of  employment,  to 
whom,  it  may  naturally  be  supposed,  the  itinerancy 
was  not  so  pleasant  as  a  settled  mode  of  life  might 
be,  I  will  take  occasion  to  say  at  once  that  it  was 
not  so.  Xo,  if  I  had  been  advised  by  her,  I  had 
never  left  the  work  to  which  we  both  believed  I 
had  been  called.  She  doubted,  she  hesitated,  she 
objected  to  it  from  the  first  moment  that  I  intro- 
duced the  subject  to  her.    K"ever  did  she  utter  a 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


181 


word  nor  make  a  sign  in  favor  of  it,  but  against  it ; 
and  at  last  slie  yielded  with,  extreme  reluctance, 
saying,  "  If  you  are  clear  in  your  mind,  you  must 
do  it,  but  I  fear  you  will  do  it  too  much  on  iny 
account."  Angelic  woman!  Had  she  known  it 
was  the  hearse  to  bear  her  to  an  early  grave,  and 
had  I  known  it,  the  sides  of  the  controversy  had 
been  changed.  It  was  as  she  suspected.  There 
were  indeed  strong  reasons  for  my  course,  as  we 
have  seen,  but  there  was  a  stronger  on^  underlying 
them  all,  which  I  would  fain  have  hid  even  from 
myself,  and  that  was  the  pain  of  being  absent'  from 
her.  What  a  deception  was  this  1  And  yet  what 
honesty  might  be  so  severe  as  to  be  proof  against 
it  ?  Had  the  temptation  been  presented  in  some 
other  form,  had  it  concerned  somebody  else,  some 
other  interest  than  the  pulse  of  life,  it  had  re- 
sulted differently,  I  think.  "Why  might  I  not  have 
anticipated  the  change  which  even  then  was  ready 
to  be  begun  in  the  economy  of  the  Church  ?  Why 
was  I  not  wise  enough  to  kiiow,  not  only  that  such 
a  change  was  wanted,  but  that,  on  the  principles  of 
our  progress,  it  was  indispensable,  and  must  very 
soon  take  place  ?  Why  not  have  seen  that  I  was 
called  to  sustain  my  part  in  this  necessary  change 
■  of  policy  in  the  Church  ?  But  there  was  something 
that  kept  me  from  seeing,  and  I  was  blind. 

Having  located,  I  applied  myself  most  assiduously 
to  the  work  before  me.  I  had  fields  enclosed,  but 
no  house,  except  a  small  kitchen,  a  meat-house,  a 


182  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

barn,  and  a  stable,  which  had  been  put  up  for  me  by 
my  father.  First  to  build  a  house  of  four  small  rooms 
and  a  piazza,  and  prepare  the  grounds  for  planting, 
was  my  object.  Oats  came  first  for  the  field-work, 
(four  or  five  acres,)  then  corn,  (some  twenty-five  or 
thirty  acres,)  then  potatoes,  (an  acre  or  two,)  and  last, 
a  patch  of  rice.  Two  good  horses  were  sufiacient. 
I  bought  a  cow,  and  when  the  grass  sprang,  another; 
at  first  two  sows,  and  afterwards  others.  The 
house  ready  for  occupancy,  I  became  too  much  in- 
.  terested  in  the  field  to  be  only  a  manager,  and 
betook  myself  to  the  plough ;  which  having  done, 
I  must  prosecute  it  diligently  for  example's  sake. 
The  manner  of  the  farm  was,  to  take  the  horses  to 
the  plough  before  sunrise,  and  work  till  the  cook's 
horn  called  us  to  breakfast;  then  prayers  and 
breakfast,  having  the  horses  meanwhile  in  the 
stable,  where  there  was  always  food  for  them ;  then 
to  the  plough  again  till  the  same  horn  called  us  to 
dinner ;  then,  after  the  hour  at  dinner  for  man  and 
horse,  to  the  plough  till  after  sunset.  I  had  never 
done  an  hour's  work  in  a  field  in  my  life  when  I 
began  to  do  this ;  and  was  there  ever  a  severer  ex- 
ercise for  one  who  never  held  a' plough  before  ?  At 
first,  I  ploughed  all  day,  and  at  night  had  fever ; 
then  I  ploughed  all  day,  and  had  no  fever;  and 
after  some  few  weeks,  I  had  rather  plough  than  not ; 
so  that  I  have  never  been  able  to  pity  a  ploughman 
since.  Every  thing  kept  in  good  condition  about 
me,  and  in  the  fall  of  the  year  there  were  provisions 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


183 


enough  made  for  the  year  ensuing,  and  pigs  and 
poultry  a  plenty,  in  view  of  the  expected  large  fam- 
ily I  was  to  have. 

I  preached  every  Sabhath,  and  heard  of  no  fault- 
finding, though  I  was  conscious  in  myself  that 
there,  may  have  been  cause  for  it.  On  the  principle  - 
of  the  adage,  that  where  you  lend  your  ear  you 
give  your  mind,  I  had  become  too  much  engrossed 
with  secular  things  through  the  week  to  be  very 
spiritual  on  Sunday.  And  I  was  conscious, .  too, 
that  whereas  I  had  located  to  meet  a  necessity,  only 
till  that  necessity  should  have  been  met,  feeling 
that  spiritual  and  not  temporal  things  constituted 
my  vocation,  and  that  the  latter  should  be  subor- 
dinate to  the  former,  I  was  losing  by  imperceptible 
degrees  my  former  clearness  of  perception  of  the 
paramount  obligation  of  a  minister  to  his  ministry, 
and  the  quickness  of  feeling  proper  to  it,  just  in 
proportion  as  I  felt  the  cares  ^  of  husbandry  and 
had  my  thoughts  taken  up  with  temporal  concerns. 
Temporal  things  were  stealthily  gaining  in  im- 
portance, if  things  spiritual  were  not  declining; 
and  the  duties  of  husband  and  father  for  this  life 
were  getting  to  be  considered  too  much  apart  from 
their  indispensable  connection  with  the  life  to 
come,  and  God's  blessing  for  both  worlds.  Thus 
it  was  with  me  when,  on  the  30th  of  December, 
1815,  at  6  o'clock  P.  M.,  my  first  son  was  born,  and 
at  10  o'clock  the  idol  of  my  heart  expired!  That 
morning  I  had  seen  her  the  perfection  of  beauty, 
the  loveliest  of  her  sex ;  and  contemplated  her  as 


184 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


the  first  of  women,  the  pride  and  joy  of  my  life» 
And  now,  at  night,  something  had  gone  wrong,  I 
knew  not  what,  and  befoi-e  there  might  have  been 
time  for  alarm,  she  was  no  more.  I  cannot  dwell 
upon  it,  but  I  owe  her  something  who  was  my  Avife, 
whose  surpassing  beauty  stood  not  in  her  husband's 
€ye,  but  was  acknowledged  by  all  her  acquaintances ; 
whose  whole  life  had  been  passed  without  a  reproof 
from  father,  mother,  or  friend ;  whose  nature  was 
gentleness  and  love  to  a  degree  not  to  be  exceeded ; 
whose  modesty  was  so  perfect  as  never  to  bear,  even 
from  myself  in  private,  a  word  expressing  admira- 
tion of  her  personal  beauty,  without  a  blush  to 
crimson  her  cheek ;  whose  faith  in  Christ  was  sim- 
ple, sincere,  and  consistent ;  whose  Jjiety  kept  her 
in  the  love  of  God  continually,  so  as  always  to 
enjoy  the  hope  of  the  gospel  and  the  reason  of  it ; 
and  who,  with  all  her  loveliness,  was  mine,  as 
completely  as  the, purest  and  strongest  affection 
could  make  her  so.  Xor  was  she  only  to  be  ad- 
inired  and  loved  for  her  beauty  and  her  sweetness: 
gentle  as  she  was,  she  had  a  noble  courage,  which 
1  several  times  saw  proved :  as  when  we  were  at 
Smithville,  and  the  British  were  expected,  at  Wil- 
mington, with  those  desperate  chances  of  the  road 
before  us ;  and  even  here  in  our  out-of-the-way  re- 
tirement. 'Nor  was  she  one  of  those  charming 
ones  who  seem  to  think  themselves  too  charming  to 
be  useful.  Xo  one  required  less  on  her  own  account 
than  my  sainted  Anna,  while  few  might  boast  of  a 
readier  mind  or  more  efficient  will  for  the  service  of 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


185 


lier  friends.  And  whatever  she  did  she  did  well :  her 
spirit  was  active,  taking  hold  on  every  thing  about 
her  to  purpose,  and  managing  well  all  her  house- 
hold affairs. 

Bishop  Asbury  and  Bishop  McKendree  had  both 
been  expected  to  attend  the  Conference  at  Charles- 
ton in  December,  1815 ;  but  the  latter  only  was 
enabled  to  attend  it ;  Bishop  Asbury,  sinking  un- 
der his  infirmities,  and  almost  at  his  end,  having 
been  obliged  to  lie  by  on  the  road.  He  was  now 
(January,  1816)  aiming  for  Baltimore,  with  but 
little  hope  of  eking  out  life  till  the  session  of  the 
General  Conference  in  that  city;  and  as  he  passed 
through  Rembert's  neighborhood  I  saw  "him,  and, 
with  a  )3leeding  heart,  asked  him  for  a  circuit.  A  " ' 
circuit,  any  circuit,  would  now  have  been  a  boon. 
"I»am  a  dying  man,"  replied  the  Bishop,  ''or  I 
would  give  you  one.  I  shall  never  see  another 
Conference  in  Carolina.  You  had  better  wait  for 
your  Quarterly  Conference  to  recommend  you  to  a 
Presiding  Elder."  It  was  a  sore  disappointment, 
but  there  was  no  alternative. 

During  the  year  1814,  my  brother  John  had  pur- 
chased the  place  of  my  father's  last  residence,  (ad- 
joining which  was  the  farm  I  have  been  speaking 
of,)  and  was  living  at  it.  This  circumstance  had 
contributed  no  little  to  our  satisfaction  during  the 
year  which  had  now  closed  with  death  and  dark- 
ness ;  and,  in.  view  of  my  instantly  returning  to  the 
itinerancy,  it  offered  a  relief  for  some  perplexity  I 
felt  as  to  the  best  and  kindest  disposition  in  my 


186  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

power  to  make  of  the  few  negroes  I  had  beeu  farm- 
ing with.  And  it  was  concluded  between  us  that, 
as  the  whole  concern  put  under  the  management 
of  a  hired  overseer  was  not  sufficient  to  insure  any 
considerable  income,  and  might  be  abused,  I  would 
leave  the  negroes  to  themselves,  with  stock  and 
provisions  sufficient  for  their  use,  and  that  he  would 
visit  them  often  enough  to  give  advice  on  any  mat- 
ter of  interest  to  them.  This  arrangement  was 
made  in  the  month  of  January.  They  had  corn 
enough  for  all  purposes,  and  more  than  I  had  con- 
sumed the  year  before,  two  good  milch  cows,  my 
best  farm-horse  and  all  utensils  for  the  field,  as 
much  bacon  as  weighed  two  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  to  each  of  the  adults  and  half  as  much  to 
each  child,  and  several  sows  with  yDung  pigs,  be- 
side a  number  of  shoats.  I  was  sure  that  with  t)he  ' 
same  provisions,  properly  husbanded,  twice  the 
number  of  persons  might  be  fully  fed.  They 
planted  twenty  acres  of  corn  and  ten  or  eleven  of 
cotton.  Of  the  cotton,  never  a  pod  was  picked, 
for  the  reason  that  none  was  produced.  Of  the 
corn,  they  gathered  in  October  about  half  as  much 
as  I  had  left  them  in  January.  The  cows  and 
calves  were  dead,  so  were  the  sows  and  shoats  and 
pigs,  except  some  seven  or  eight  left  from  the  spring 
litters,  which  were  barely  living.  So  that  I  esti- 
mated my  loss  by  the  experiment  of  the  year,  at 
about  as  much  as  it  had  cost  me  the  year  before  to 
get  the  place  settled.  I  never  saw  them  till  in 
October  I  went  to  see  what  they  had  produced. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


18T 


But  before  this  result  was  known,  or  had  been 
anticipated,  I  found  myself  embarrassed  from  an- 
other quarter.  The  surplus  produce  sold  in  Jan- 
uary, including  some  stock,  left  me  still  owing 
several  hundred  dollars.  This  my  brother  John 
proffered  kindly  to  assume  the  payment  of;  but 
for  some  cause,  I  know  not  what,  my  creditors  de- 
clined it,  and  insisted  on  retaining  my  notes.  It 
seemed  a  little  curious,  that  the  same  principle 
of  abiding  contracts,  which  had  kept  me  to  my 
circuit  rounds  under  the  temptations  of  1809,  ' 
should  now  forbid  my  going  to  a  circuit  in  1816. 
But  so  it  was.  I  had  to  be  just  in  the  first  place, 
and  pay  my  debts,  lest  my  good  should  be  evil 
spoken  of,  and  my  zeal  for  religion  be  made  an 
occasion,  by  any  one,  of  reproaching  it.  During 
some  six  weeks  that  I  was  in  Georgetown  as  a 
supply  for  the  stationed  preacher,  who  had  gone 
to  the  General  Conference  at  Baltimore,  I  re- 
ceived dun  upon  dun ;  evidently  from  an  appre- 
hension that  I  had  gone  to  a  business  in  which 
nothing  could  be  made  for  the  payment  of  debts. 

I  might  have  mentioned  in  my  notices  of  the 
last  year,  (1815,)  that  although  my  plans  were  laid 
with  a  view  only  to  the  year  ensuing  as  regarded 
teaching,  I  was  induced  to  take  charge  of  the 
two  eldest  sons  of  my  friend,  William  Johnson, 
Esq.,  of  San  tee,  who  continued  with  us  from  early 
in  July  till  the  Christmas  holidays.  The  sad  cause 
which  prevented  others  from  coming  at  the  present 
date,  (January,  1816,)  had  also  prevented  the  re- 


188 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


turn  of  tliese,  as  it  was  understood  that  tlie  death 
of  my  wife  had  broken  up  my  plans.  But  while  I 
was  in  Georgetown  this  spring,  as  above  stated,  I 
was  solicited  by  a  brother-in-law  of  Mr.  Johnson, 
Robert  F.  Withers,  Esq.,  (who.  then  passed  his 
summers  in  the  neighborhood  of  StatesbuTg,)  to 
pass  the  summer  with  him  and  teach  his  children, 
for  which  .  I  should  receive  a  liberal  salary ;  for 
so  I  considered  a  hundred  dollars  a  month  to  be, 
with  board  and  keeping  my  horse,  and  liberty  to 
visit  my  children  at  will. 

But  before  I  go  to  Mr.  Withers,  let  me  return 
to  Mr.  Johnson.  As  soon  as  he  had  heard  that  I 
was  in  Georgetown,  he  sent  a  letter  of  condolence 
with  a  request  for  me  to  visit  him,  and  let  him 
know  when  it  might  be  convenient  for  me  to  come, 
that  he  might  send  for  me.  I  was  received  with 
tears  by  all  the  family,  and  my  dear  boys  Andrew 
and  Pinckney  wept  as  if  they  had  lost  a  mother. 
In  the  morning  Mr.  Johnson  proposed  a  walk,  and 
opened  in  the  most  delicate  manner  possible  the 
object  of  it  as  soon  as  we  were  alone  together-.  He 
thought  I  must  have  incurred  expenses  in  the  last 
year  looking  to  the  income  of  the  present,  which 
might  be  inconvenient  to  me.  He  had  a  consider- 
able sum  of  money  in  the  hands  of  his  factor  which 
he  did  not  need  for  any  present  use ;  and  he  would 
be  the  obliged  person  if  I  would  allow  him  to  ad- 
vance me  any  sum.  He  spoke  of  Mrs.  Capers,  her 
'affectionate  kindness  to  his  sons,  their  love  for  her, 
the  mournful  interest  which  the  family  felt  for  me, 


AUTOBIOGRAPETY. 


189 


and  mentioned  a  thousand  dollars  as^  the  least  he 
thought  I  might  require  on  account  of  the  last 
year,  and  which  he  was  to  be  the  obliged  person 
by  advancing.  I  consented  to  three  hundred." 
And  I  will  only  add  that  w^hen,  a  year  or  more  after-^ 
wards,  I  was  ready  to  repay  it,  he  begged  to  be- 
excused,  assuring  me  that/he  had  accepted  a  note 
only  to  relieve  my  feelings  at  the  time,  but  had  torn 
the  name  off  before  putting  it  in  his  desk,  and  was 
still  very  sorry  that  I  had  not  consented  to  accept 
a  thousand  dollars  instead  of  three  hundred.  ISTot 
so  dollar  would  he  have ;  and  it  was  plain  that  I 
,  had  not  thought  well  enough  of  mankind  to  sup- 
pose there  might  be  a  William  Johnson  among  my 
acquaintances. 

In  June  I  entered  on  the  duties  of  my  engage- 
ment with  Mr.  Withers,  on  the  Hills,  near  States- 
burg.  His  seat  was  about  ten  miles  from  my 
sister's,  where  were  -my  two  infant  children,  Anna 
and  Theodotus.  My  most  kind  and  faithful  sister 
had  been  with  us  several  days  at  the  time  of  the 
death  of  my  beloved  wife,  and  had  taken  the  child- 
ren home  with  her  as  their  foster-mother ;  and  well 
did  she  fulfil  a  mother's  part  by  them.  Here  with 
my  sister  and  children  I  usually  passed  two  days  in 
seven ;  the  rest  of  my  time  being  devoted  to  the 
instruction  of  the  Misses  Withers,  Sarah,  Anslie, 
and  Charlotte,  fourteen,  twelve,  and  ten  years  old ; 
and  lovely  pupils  were  they. 

If  I  had  been  as  considerate  of  public  prejudice 
(or,  perhaps,  opinion)  as  I  might  have  been  at  the 


190 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPEKS. 


age  of  twenty-six,  I  should  not  have  to  state  that 
at  the  expiration  of  the  term  of  my  engagement 
with  Mr.  Withers,  I  was  married  to  Miss  Susan 
McGill,  my  present  wife.  This  was  on  the  31st  of 
October.  I  believe,  indeed,  that  I  have  always 
had  a  right  appreciation  of  the  duty  one  owes 
to  public  sentiment ;  and  if  the  early  date  of  my 
second  marriage  be  not  an  exception,  I  have  been 
scrupulously  observant  of  it  all  through  life.  What 
is  called  popularity  is  another  thing.  Since  I  was 
converted,  I  have  classed  that  with  its  fellows  of 
"the  abominations  of  the  Egyptians;"  and  my 
observations  on  men,  both  of  the  Church  and  the 
State,  have  gone  strongly  to  the  conclusion  that  it 
is  an  "abomination  of  desolation,"  and  that 
whether  it  may  be  called  Eoman  or  Egyptian,  it 
cannot  consist  with  Christian  principle.  The  man 
who  would  make  himself  popular,  stoops  and 
crouches  to  just  that  degree.  He  puts  himself  in 
a  posture  for  any  thing,  and  to  go  in  any  direction  ; 
a  chameleon  of  any  color,  a  fawning  spaniel  or  a 
barking  cur,  just  as  may  suit  the  time.  He  may 
be  a  feather  in  the  wind,  or  a  tennis-ball  tossed 
by  a  child's  hand ;  but  he  has  lost  the  form  of  a, 
man  when  he  has  made  popularity  his  principle. 
!N'ot  so  as  to  the  respect  of  the  individual  for  public 
sentiment;  that  is,  the  common  judgment  ot 
society  as  to  the  proprieties  of  life  and  conduct 
Popularity  works  against  society ;  this  feeling  oi ' 
respect  for  public  sentiment  works  for  it.  Thh 
proceeds  from  a  feeling  of  the  responsibility  pro 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


191 


per  for  the  individual  towards  the  community : 
that  affects  to  honor  the  community  for  individual 
advantage,  and  exalts  self-interest  above  the  gen- 
eral good.  The  one  is  a  generous  virtue,  and  the 
other  just  the  opposite.  If  the  opinion  were  true 
which  I  have  heard  expressed,  that  a  second  wife 
is  a  supplanter,  and  in  contracting  a  second  mar- 
riage one  forgets  the  former  wife,  or  loses  his 
aftection  for  her,  transferring  it  to  the  supplanter ; 
or  if  only  that  to  marry  a  second  wife  implies  such 
an  interference  with  the  affections  as  is  incon- 
sistent with  the  most  tenderly  cherished  love  and 
affection  for  the  dead,  I  could  never  have  been 
married  a  second  time,  nor  could  ten  years  have 
prepared  me  for  the  unnatural  revulsion.  I  did 
not  believe  so,  nor  did  I  feel  so.  It  was  alike 
natural  and  sincere  for  me  to  weep  for  the  dead  or 
solicit  a  living  wife ;  and  the  woman  should  have 
had  not  my  affection  but  abhorrence  who  should 
have  come  to  my  arms  as  a  supplanter.  Anna  was 
enshrined  in  my  heart  never  to  be  dispossessed  ;  and 
the  wife  I  solicited  was  not  to  dispute  her  title  to 
her  burying-place.  And  yet,  I  repeat,  I  solicited 
the  hand  of  Miss  McGill  as  sincerely  as  I  had  done 
that  of  Miss  White  ;  and  I  loved  to  talk  of  my  dear 
Anna  to  her.  I  loved  to  tell  her  how  she  must 
have  loved  to  know  her,  as  her  own  soul's  sister; 
as  I  have  since  told  her  how  I  shall  love  to  intro- 
duce them  when  we  meet  together  in  heaven, 
l^ature's  secrets  are  not  to  be  disclosed  in  words ; 
but  60  simple  was  my  heart,  so  sincere  my  con- 


192 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


duct,  that  one  of  my  first  cares  after  my  second 
marriage  was  to  introduce  Mrs.  Capers  to  my 
mother,  (Anna's  mother,)  as  her  daughter.  I  knew 
she  could  never  doubt  my  love  for  the  deceased, 
and  she  herself  had  been  married  a  second  time. 

I  could  not  yet  be  ready  for  the  itinerancy,  but 
must  be  occupied  for  another  year  at  least  with  tem- 
poral things,  if  only  to  fetch  up  the  losses  of  the 
blind  experiment  I  had  made  of  having  my  negroes 
to  provide  for  themselves  by  farming.  My  loca- 
tion was  Georgetown,  with  a  rented  house  at 
[N'orth  Island  for  the  summer;  my  employment, 
teaching  a  school.  And  thus  commenced  the  3^ear 
1817. 

Susan  McGill  (my  present  wife)  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  "William  and  Ann  McGill,  of  Kershaw  Dis- 
trict, South  Carolina.  Her  father  was  from  Ireland, 
and  when  she  was  about  eight  years  old,  he  was 
induced  to  remove  to  Georgia.  The  place  they 
lighted  on  was  exceedingly  sickly,  and  the  family 
suflTered  much  by  sickness,  Mr.  McGill  not  less 
than  the  others,  and  perhaps  more.  By  this 
means,  and  the  unfaithfulness  of  one  of  those 
double-eyed  friends,  who  are  never  to  be  trusted, 
after  a  few  years  he  lost  pretty  much  what  pro- 
perty he  had  had,  and  returned  to  Carolina,  where, 
at  least,  he  had  some  friends  left.  His  near  neigh- 
bor, a  Mr.  Turley,  left  him,  in  his  will,  a  small 
farm  in  a  healthy  portion  of  Kershaw  District. 
Leaving  his  family'  for  a  time  in  charge  of  his 
eldest  son,  at  a  farm  near  Columbia,  belonging  to 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


193 


General  Horry,  he  vi^ite^  the  farm  in  Kershaw  Dis- 
trict, and  prepared  to,  move  his  family  thither. 
During  his  absence  his  eldest  son,  Samuel,  obtain- 
ed a  situation  in  the  upper  part  of  Columbia,  called 
Cotton  Town.  His  kind  and  obliging  manners 
made  him  many  friends:  among  the  ladies  was 
Mrs.  Horry.  After  the  death  of  her  husband,  (Gen* 
eral  Horry,)  her  attachment  to  Samuel  induced  a 
request  from  her  to  his  parents  to  spend  the  winter 
with  her  in  Georgetown.  The  friendship  of  this 
excellent  lady  grew  into  attachment,  and  resulted 
in  his  eldest  sister,  Susan,  becoming  a  member  of 
her  family.  Samuel  died  early  after  his  sister's 
marriage,  and  was  a  spirited,  promising  young  man. 
William,  after  receiving  a  thorough  training  for 
business,  (at  the  house  of  Messrs.  McDowell  and 
Black,  in  Charleston,)  and  making  something  clever 
on  his  own  account,  removed  at  a  later  period  to 
Alabama,  with  his  mother,  (his  father  being  dead,) 
several  sisters,  and  a  younger  brother  named  James. 
I  saw  him  some  seven  years  ago  at  Tuskaloosa, 
where  he  was  at  that  time  a  member  of  the  Legis- 
lature, and  still  had  the  care  of  his  sisters,  his 
mother  being  dead.  It  was  at  Mrs.  Horry's  that 
I  became  acquainted  with  Miss  McGill,  and  at  her 
house  we  were  married ;  for  she  had  become  as  a 
daughter  to  her  benefactress,  who  had  never  had 
a  child  of  her  own ;  and  had  been  so  regarded  for 
several  years. 

Our  friend  resided  in  Columbia  for  the  summer 
and  fall,  and  in  Georgetown  for  the  winter  and 
T 


194  LIEE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


Bpring,  having  tier  estate  on  "Winy aw  Bay.  And 
in  anticipation  of  our  going  to  Georgetown,  she 
had  arranged  that  we  should  occupy  her  house,  and 
be  furnished  with  provisions  froni  her  plantation, 
at  will.  But,  except  for  a  few  weeks,  I  availed 
myself  of  neither.  The  house  was  too  remote 
for  a  school,  and  it  was  not  to  my  taste  to  order 
any  thing  in  her  absence  from  her  plantation.  She 
chided  me  kindly  for  this,  and  said  she  ascribed  it 
to  my  not  understanding  her  intentions  towards 
my  wife.  It  was  the  only  time  we  had  any  conver- 
sation about  property.  She  had  several  times  hinted 
at  it  before,  and  I  had  as  often  evaded  her;  but 
now  she  told  me  plainly,  that  the  instrument  which 
she  had  had  drawn  up  after  the  death  of  her  hus- 
band, and  when  Susan  had  but  just  come  into  her 
family,  was  not  to  be  her  will.  She  had  a  pre- 
judice against  making  wills,  or  she  would  have 
made  another  long  before  then.  The  plantation 
which  I  was  too  delicate  to  order  a  bushel  of  rice 
from,  was  to  be  mine,  and  a  number  of  the  negroes 
mine,  except  a  token  of  affection  for  one  who  had 
been  long  in  her  family  as  a  daughter,  but  for 
whom  ample  provision  had  already  been  made  by 
General  Horry;  and  a  hundred  dollars  a  year  to 
an  orphan  girl  till  she  should  be  married.  There, 
however,  still  lay  the  repudiated  will  in  the  drawer, 
which  had  been  so  long  made,  and  now  so  decided- 
ly renounced,  and  which,  as  little  as  she  may  have 
thought  of  it,  was  to  be  her  will  at  last.  She  had 
been  not  many  weeks  in  Georgetown,  when  she  was 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


195 


taken  eick.  Her  physician  called  it  rheumatism, 
and  told  her  friends  that  little  was  the  matter, 
more  than  rheumatism  in  connection  with  a  cold. 
Mrs.  Capers  visited  her  every  day,  and  every  day 
heard  the  story  ahout  rheumatism.  I  grew  uneasy, 
and  went  to  see  her — doubted  her  physician's 
judgment,  and  proposed  that  she  should  be  re- 
moved to  my  house;  as  if  barely  for  a  pleasant 
change,  but  meaning  to  employ  another  physician. 
She  was  removed.  Another  physician  was  called 
immediately,  for  she  was  extremely  ill.  He  pro- 
nounced the  case  hopeless,  and  she  died  in  a  few 
days.  The  second  physician  was  J)r.  John  Wragg, 
a  nephew  of  my  second  mother;  and  suspecting 
something,  probably,  he  asked  me  at  the  first 
moment  we  were  alone  after  seeing  her,  if  she  had 
a  will,  or  wished  to  alter  one ;  and  on  being  told 
how  the  matter  was,  urged  me  instantly  to  send  for 
a  law^^er.  But  it  could  not  be.  She  had  been 
trifled  with  to  within  two  hours  of  her  conscious- 
ness in  life,  and  I  owed  her  too  much  to  take  up 
those  two  hours  at  the  threshold  of  eternity  with  a 
lawyer ;  and  I  owed  myself  too  much  to  allow  a 
suspicion  to  attach  to  me  that  I  had  brought  her 
to  my  house  in  a  dying  condition  to  filch  her  pro- 
perty. When  her  situation  was  made  known  to 
her,  the  will  came  first  to  her  mind.  But  I  was 
at  her  bedside  for  another  purpose,  and  claimed 
her  thoughts  for  Christ  and  his  salvation;  and 
several  times  afterwards,  when  scarcely  able  to 


196  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


articulate,  she  tried  to  say  sometliing  about  that 
will. 

My  school  was  well  attended — quite  as  much  so 
as  I  desired  it  to  be.  We  had  the  satisfaction  of 
being  in  one  of  the  best  of  communities — George- 
town at  its  best  estate,  I  should  think — and  of 
having  the  ministry  and  intimate  friendship  of  that 
excellent  man,  the  Rev.  Samuel  K.  Hodges.  But 
there  was  nothing  that  contributed  more  to  my  en- 
joyment than  the  affectionate  attachment  which 
subsisted  between  my  wife  and  the  family  of  my 
deceased  wife,  which  was  so  simple,  and  pure- 
hearted,  and  entire,  that  a  stranger  might  have 
thought  she  was  the  very  daughter  and  sister  of 
them  all.  In  June  we  repaired  to  our  rented  sum- 
mer-house on  Du  Bordieti's  Island,  which  is  sepa- 
rated by  an  inlet  from  ^sTorth  Island,  and  together 
with  that  island  served  the  planters  and  principal 
inhabitants  of  Georgetown  as  a  healthy  retreat  in 
summer.  My  school  was  continued  here  for  the 
benefit  of  my  neighbors,  and  such  others  as  would 
board  their  children,  till  late  in  October,  when  I 
returned  to  Georgetown,  and  resumed  it  there ; 
and  during  this  period  I  preached  every  Sabbath 
day  "  in  my  own  hired  house." 

And  now  what  was  wanting  ?  Whether  at  the 
island  or  in  town,  my  school  was  amply  sufficient 
for  my  wants ;  my  health  was  good ;  I  was  in  a 
community  of  friends,  with  not  a  few  of  those  I 
most  loved  about  me ;  I  enjoyed  public  respect  and 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


197 


confidence;  and  yet  I  was  unhappy.  During  the 
time  at  the  ishand,  wl^en  surrounded  by  rr^n  of  the 
world  only,  and  in  such  near  neighborhood  with 
them  as  to  hear  and  see  continually  what  the  world 
afforded  for  the  happiness  of  its  people,  it  was  as 
if  the  mysterious  words,  "mene,  mene,  tekel, 
UPHARSiN,"  had  been  written  on  the  wall  of  every 
parlor.  I  loathed  it  all,  though  I  loved  its  victims. 
I  loathed  it,  and  yet  I  was  haunted  with  spectres 
of  apostates  who  for  the  world  had  abjured  reli- 
gion. Shall  ever  I  be  one?  And  I  was  afraid, 
though  I  felt  that  neither  of  its  divinities,  "the 
lust  of  the  flesh,"  nor  "the  lust  of  the  eye,"  nor 
"  the  pride  of  life,"  was  any  god  with  me.  I  heard 
the  voice  of  preaching,  but  it  was  my  own  voice 
that  I  heard ;  of  prayer,  but  it  was  I  who  prayed. 
I  heard,  perchance,  the  notes  of  some  song  of  Zion, 
but  the  singers  were  my  wife  and  myself  alone.  I 
would  contrast  my  loneliness  with  the  times  gone 
by,  when  in  the  woods  which  had  never  known  an 
axe  I  felt  not  to  be  alone,  because  I  had  left  a 
Christian  brother's  house  and  was  going  to  meet  a 
company  at  the  house  of  God.  The  prayer-meet- 
ing, the  class-meeting,  the  love-feast,  I  had  none ; 
but  the  wofld,  the  world  was  ever  about  me,  and 
turn  which  way  I  might  it  still  pursued  me.  I 
thought,  nay,  I  felt,  that  if  I  had  never  been  con- 
versant with  it  before,  having  less  knowledge  I 
might  feel  less  aversion.  But  it  was  the  same 
world  which  I  had  been  bred  in ;  and  which  I  had 
renounced,  because  it  knew  not,  and  could  not 


198 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


know,  the  cross  of  Christ.  My  return  to  George- 
to\Yn  wajB  a  great,  a  very  great  relief.  How  sweet 
was  communion  with  brother  Hodges ;  how  plea- 
sant the  society  of  brethren  ;  how  grateful  the  fel- 
lowship of  the  class-meeting;  how  delightful  the 
gospel  from  the  lips  of  another;  how  precious  the 
table  of  the  Lord  !  Could  I  doubt  ?  Surely  I  could 
not.  I  had  been  out  of  my  place,  and  therefore 
could  not  be  at  ease.  God  had  not  meant  forme  to 
serve  tables,  but  to  preach ;  nor  to  keep  a  school 
for  so  much  a  quarter,  but  to  feed  his  flock,  his 
sheep  and  his  lambs.  "What  would  I  pass  another 
summer  for,  excluded  the  privileges  of  the  Church 
of  Christ?  "What  might  recompense  me  for  an- 
other summer  like  the  past  at  Du  Bordieu's  Island? 
But  there  was  only  one  way  of  escape  for  me,  and 
come  what  might  I  must  take  that  way.  I  must 
reenter  the  itinerancy,  and  I  must  do  so  at  once. 
There,  I  should  not  bear  my  burdens  unsustained ; 
and  heavy  if  they  should  be,  I  should  have  the 
consolation,  best  above  all,  of  knowing  that  they 
were  the  Lord's,  and  borne  for  His  sake,  and  not 
of  my  producing. 

Our  fourth  Quarterly  Meeting  came  on  in  a  few 
weeks  after  my  return  to  Georgetown,  and  I  sur- 
prised brother  Kennedy,  the  Presiding  Elder,  by 
applying  for  a  recommendation  to  be  readmitted 
into  the  itinerancy.  This  done,  I  went  actively  to 
work  to  arrange  every  thing  for  it.  My  school  was 
closed  with  the  Christmas  holidays,  and  I  was 
ready  to  go  to  my  appointment.    Xo  time  was  lost, 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


199 


and  in  January,  1818,  I  was  again  at  work  as  a 
,  travelling  preacher.  My  appointment  was  Colum- 
bia ;  where  another  had  been  added  to  the  list  of 
parsonages  belonging  to  the  South  Carolina  Con- 
ference, and  which  was  now  at  my  service.  It 
was  a  small  concern,  and  poor ;  but  there  was  no 
reprobating  "tekel"  to  be  seen  written  on  its  walls, 
,  and  I  could  sing, 

*'  My  soul  mounted  higher 
In  a  chariot  of  fire, 
And  the  world,  it  was  under  my  feet." 

Poverty  itself  had  a  charm  when  it  stood  in  an 
open  renunciation  of  the  world  for  the  Master's 
sake.  As  to  the  parsonage-house,  or  its  furniture, 
or  provisions,-!  was  not  responsible  for  them,  good 
or  bad. 

My  friends  in  Columbia  will  excuse  the  liberty  I 
take  in  what  I  here  say  of  the  accommodations 
furnished  the  preacher  in  1818,  and  may  even  take 
a  pleasure  in  contrasting  the  present  with  the  past 
in  that  respect.  They  will  hardly  dream  of  any  re- 
flection on  them  by  a  statement  of  facts,  any  more 
than  that  pattern  society  of  Methodists  in  Wil- 
,  mington  might  at  the  present  time  by  the  facts  of 
the  time  of  my  service  in  that  place.  The  cases 
were  different,  to  be  sure,  for  in  1818,  in  Columbia, 
we  had  some  five  or  six  brethren,  any  one  of  whom 
was  worth  more  than  an  equivalent  of  all  the  property 
of  all  the  Methodists  of  Wilmington  in  1813  put 
together.    And  it  is  also  true  that  these  richer 


200 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


brethren  were  tlie  stewards.  I  mention  it  to  show 
what  was  the  general  state  of  things  among  ns  at 
that  time  as  regarded  the  support  of  the  preachers; 
and  shall  be  faithful,  without  the  slightest  feeling 
of  any  possible  unkindness. 

The  parsonage-house  was  of  one  story,  about  forty 
feet  long,  eighteen  or  twenty  wide,  and  consisted 
of  three  rooms,  of  which  one,  at  the  west  end  of 
the  house,  had  the  breadth  of  the  house  for  its 
length,  by  some  seventeen  feet  for  its  breadth.  It 
had  a  fire-place,  and  a  first  coat  of  rough  plastering 
to  make  it  comfortable  in  winter.  Across  the  mid- 
dle of  the  house  was  a  passage,  communicating 
with  this  principal  room  on  one  side,  and  two  small 
rooms  which  took  up  the  remainder  of  the  house 
on  the  other  side  of  it.  These  two  small  rooms 
also  were  made  comfortable,  as  the  principal  one 
was,  by  a  first  coat  of  rough  plastering,  but  with- 
out any  fire-place.  There  was  no  shed  nor  piazza 
to  the  house,  and  the  story  was  low,  so  that  in 
summer  it  was  very  hot.  There  was  in  one  of  the 
small  rooms  a  bed,  a  comfortable  one,  but  I  think 
there  was  neither  bureau  nor  table,  and  I  have  for- 
gotten whether  there  was  a  chair  appropriated  to  it, 
besides  the  four  belonging  to  the  parlor,  or  not. 
Perhaps,  as  four  chairs  were  enough  for  our  use  at. 
any  one  time,  it  was  thought  as  well  to  have  them 
taken  from  parlor  to  chamber  and  back  again. 
The  parlor  (as  I  call  the  room  which  was  appropri- 
ated to  all  purposes  except  sleeping)  was  furnished 
with  a  table,  of  pine  wood,  which,  for  having  been 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


201 


Bome  time  in  a  school-liouse,  was  variously  hacked 
and  marked  with  deep  and  broad  notches,  heads  of 
men,  and  the  like,  which,  however,  could  not  be  " 
seen  after  we  got  a  cloth  to  cover  them ;  ,a  slab,  of 
a  broad  piece  of  pine  plank,  painted  Spanish-brown, 
on  which  were  a  pitcher,  five  cups  and  saucers,  and 
three  tumblers;  a  well-made  bench,  for  sitting, 
nine  feet  long,  of  pine  also,  and  three  Windsor 
chairs.  I  am  not  sure  whether  we  found  a  pair  of 
andirons  in  the  parlor  or  not,  so  that  I  cannot  add 
such  a  convenience  to  the  list  with  certainty.  With 
this  doubtful  addition,  the  above  furnishes  an  en- 
tire list  of  the  furniture.  In  the  yard  was  a  small 
shanty  of  one  room  for  a  kitchen,  and  another  still 
smaller  for  a  store-room,  or  meat-house,  or  I  know 
not  what.  We  used  it,  small  as  it  was,  for  an 
omnium  gatherum.  And  I  repeat,  so  far  was  I 
from  complaining,  that  I  even  exulted  in  this 
poverty.  For  a  man  to  be  inferior  to  his  circum- 
stances, I  thought,  might  be  a  humiliation  indeed,  . 
but  I  could  see  no  reason  to  be  mortified  at  What 
others  had  imposed  on  a  pure  conscience.  And  I 
have  a  vivid  recollection  of  receiving  company  and 
seating  them  on  that  long  bench  with  as  perfect 
ease  of  manner  as  I  might  have  done  if  they  had 
•  called  on  me  at  a  tent  at  a  camp-meeting,  where 
nothing  better  was  to  be  expected.  In  particular, 
I  remember  to  have  felt  something  more  than  bare 
self-possession,  when,  being  waited  on  by  a  joint 
committee  of  the  two  houses  of  the  Legislature, 
with  a  request  to  preach  to  that  honorable  body, 
9* 


202  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

and  perceiving  that  my  bench,  might  hold  their 
honors,  I  invited  them  to  be  seated  on  it,  while  I 
took  a  chair  before  that  presence,  feeling  to  look  as 
if  I  did  not  lack  good-breeding.  And  I  had  a 
feeling,  too,  as  if  not  a  man  of  them  need  be  mor- 
tified by  a  seat  so  humble  as  was  that  pine  bench. 
What  was  the  bench  to  them?  and  what  was  the 
bench  to  me  ?  They  could  occupy  it  with  dignity, 
and  so  might  I,  either  that  or  my  half-backed  chair. 

The  general  position  of  the  Methodists  as  a 
denomination  was  exceedingly  humble.  They  were 
the  poorer  of  the  people.  The  preachers  had  been 
raised  up  from  among  that  people,  and,  in  worldly 
respects,  were  still  as  they  were.  Every  thing 
about  the  denomination  partook  somewhat,  perhaps 
much,  of  the  cast  of  poverty.  The  preachers  gen- 
erally wore  very  common  clothing,  mostly  of  home- 
spun, cut  in  the  style  of  a  clown  of  a  century  past. 
The  meeting-houses,  even  in  the  towns,  were  in- 
ferior wooden  buildings.  The  aspects  of  poverty, 
if  not  poverty  itself,  seemed  to  be  Methodistic,  if 
not  saintly ;  and  Methodism  in  rags  might  be  none 
the  worse,  since  its  homespun  was  esteemed  better 
than  the  broadcloth  of  other  sects.  And  there  had 
been  an  everlasting  preaching,  too,  against  preach- 
ing for  money :  that  is,  against  the  preachers  being 
supported  by  the  people.  It  had  been  reiterated 
from  the  beginning  that  we  were  eighty-dollar 
men,  (not  money-lovers,  as  some  others  were  sus- 
pected of  being,)  till  it  got  to.  be  considered  that 
for  Methodist  preachers  to  be  made  comfortable, 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


203 


would  deprive  them  of  their  glorying,  and  tarnish 
the  lustre  of  their  Methodistic  reputation.  It  was 
all  nonsense,  perfect  nonsense,  but  it  was  not  then 
so  considered.  A  strong  case  it  was  of  the  force 
of  association,  appropriating  to  immaterial  and 
indifferent  circumstances  a  value  wholly  inde- 
pendent of  them,  and  belonging  to  a  very  different 
thing,  which,  by  chance,  had  been  found  in  con- 
nection with  such  circumstances.  But  who  did 
not  know  that  it  was  not  the  preacher's  coat  that 
made  him  preach  with  power,  and  that  furnished 
him  with  strength  for  the  battles  of  the  Lord? 
But  that  power,  in  that  preacher,  reflected  honor  on 
his  homespun  coat,  and  caused  the  coat  itself  to  be 
admired.  Could  broadcloth  do  more?  It  had 
never  done  as  much  for  the  persons  concerned,  and 
they  were  hearty  for  the  homespun,  homespun  for 
ever.  And  then,  who  would  experiment  a  change 
when  things  were  well  enough  ?  "  Let  well  enough 
alone."  The  preacher  was  just  as  he  ought  to  be, 
and  the  preaching  just  as  it  ought  to  be,  and  why 
interfere  ?  "  The  best  of  men  were  but  men  at  the 
best,"  and  who  could  vouch  that  to  change  his  cir- 
cumstances might  not  change  the  man,  so  as  that 
the  same  man  in  a  better  coat  should  not  preach  a 
worse  sermon  ?  And  then  when  such  points  were 
not  presented  as  for  an  equal  discussion  of  both 
Bides  of  the  question,  but  with  the  full  tide  and 
current  of  opinion  setting  one  way,  what  might  it 
avail  for  this  or  that  individual,  or  even  this  or 
that  society,  to  oppose  it  ?    Might  they  not  expose 


204  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

themselves  to  the  imputation  of  being  unmethodist- 
ical  and  worldly-minded,  lowering  the  standard  of 
Methodism  to  suit  their  own  carnal  tastes  ? 

I  remember  that  not  long  ago,  when  the  present 
Trinity  church  in  Charleston  had  just  been  com- 
pleted, happening  to  step  into  it  with  two  or  three 
gentlemen  of  friendly  feelings,  who  were  not  Meth- 
odists, one  of  them  said,  as  in  tones  of  regret,  shaking 
his  head  as  he  spoke :  "Ah,  this  does  not  look  like 
Methodism.  Too  fine,  too  fine !  Give  me  the  old 
Cumberland  street  blue  meeting."  And  this  was 
a  gentleman  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church, 
and  a  pretty  decided  Churchman  besides.  He 
seemed  to  think  that  even  a  High- Churchman 
coming  to  a  Methodist  meeting  might  hardly  get 
the  good  of  it  unless  he  found  there  low,  dusky  walls 
and  seats  with  open  backs,  and  such  like  assistances 
of  a  godly  worship. 

But  to  return  to  my  brethren  of  the  Board  of 
Stewards.  >  It  could  not  have  been  without  a  strug- 
gle that  such  men  as  they  were,  as  to  worldly  posi- 
tion and  circumstances,  had  identified  themselves 
with  the  Methodists  in  that  community  at  the  time 
when  they  had  done  so.  In  doing  this,  they  must 
have  felt  strongly  the*poverty  of  the  world  without 
the  riches  of  grace,  and  the  riches  of  poverty 
ennobled  by  this  heavenly  bestowment.  They  had 
come  into  the  Church,  therefore,  to  take  it  as  it 
was,  and  not  to  reform  it ;  the  rich  thus  consenting, 
perhaps  rejoicing,  to  be  made  low,  as  the  most 
desirable  form  of  exaltation.    And  they,  finding 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


205 


the  Churcli  to  be  pleased  with  its  poverty,  as  if 
that  poverty  might  be  indispensable  to  its  spirit- 
uality, adopted  the  prevailing  sentiment,  and  were 
content  with  the  poverty  for  the  sake  of  the  spirit- 
uality. They  had  not  turned  Methodists  to  spoil 
Methodism,  but  only  for  a  share  of  its  spiritual 
power.  They  were  probably  in  fault,  and  as  far  as 
they  may  have  been  so,  I  too  was  to  blame,  for  why 
did  I  not  complain  ?  Or  if  not,  why  did  I  not,  of 
myself,  put  away  that  table  and  that  bench,  and 
those  ungainly  chairs?  But  the  whole  economy 
of  1818  was  of  a  piece  with  this,  so  that  the  entire 
cost  to  the  Church  of  keeping  the  parsonage  that 
year  was  but  a  fraction  over  two  hundred  dollars. 
I  might  explain  how  it  was  so,  if  it  were  worth  the 
trouble,  but  it  is  not.  Of  this,  however,  I  am  sat- 
isfied, that  I  have  since  occupied  a  parsonage  in 
Columbia,  when  the  table  was  mahogany,  and  the 
bench  belonged  to  the  piazza,  and  the  parlor,  and 
the  dining-room,  and  two  bedrooms  were  suita- 
bly furnished  for  decency  and  comfort;  and 
neither  was  I  more  useful,  nor  did  I  love  the  peo- 
ple, nor  did  they  love  me  more,  than  in  that  year  of 
1818.  Changes  of  this  sort  require  time ;  and  woe 
to  the  man  who  should  be  so  inconsiderate  of  the 
force  of  prejudice  and  the  weaknesses  of  men,  as  to 
attempt  them  by  main  strength.  He  shall  find  his 
end  accomplished,  if  at  all,  at  a  fearful  cost. 

Methodism  was  never  poverty  and  rags,  nor  a 
clown's  coat  and  blundering  speech,  nor  an  unfur- 


206 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


nished,  haif-provisioned  house,  nor  no  house  at  all, 
for  the  preacher ;  but  it  was  the  gospel  simply  be- 
lieved, and  faithfully  followed,  and  earnestly  (even 
vehemently)  insisted  on.  It  was  powerful,  not 
because  it  was  poor,  but  because  it  was  the  living, 
breathing,  active,  urgent  testimony  of  the  gospel 
of  the  Son  of  God.  It  apprehended  Christ's  pre- 
sence, and  took  hold  on  his  authority  to  perform 
its  work.  Its  every  utterance  was  a  "  Thus  saith  the 
Lord."  The  Bible,  the  Bible  was  ever  on  its  lips. 
Nothing  but  the  Bible,  and  just  as  the  Bible  holds 
it,  was  its  testimony  of  truth.  It  was  all  spiritual, 
experimental,  practical,  not  speculative,  abstracted, 
or  metaphysical.  When  it  preached,  it  was  to 
testify  of  "repentance  toward  God,  and  faith 
toward  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;"  and  to  both,  and  to 
every  degree  of  both,  for  the  time  then  present. 
When  it  exhorted,  it  was  to  enforce  its  preaching, 
as  it  ever  saw  sinners  sporting  on  the  brink  of  a 
precipice,  and  believers  in  danger  of  being  seduced 
from  their  safety.  And  preaching  or  exhorting,  its 
inexhaustible  argument  was,  eternity — eternity  at 
hand — an  eternity  of  heaven  or  hell  for  every  soul 
of  man.  Its  great  element  was  spirituality — a 
spirituality  not  to  be  reached  by  a  sublimating 
mental  process,  but  by  a  hearty  entertaining  of  the 
truths  of  the  gospel  as  they  challenged  the  con- 
science and  appealed  to  the  heart  for  credence  in 
the  name  of  Christ  crucified,  whenever  and  wher- 
ever the  gospel  was  preached.    And  this,  together 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


20T 


with  a  moral  discipline  answering  to  it,  I  under- 
stand to  be  Methodism  still,  and  God  forbid  there 
should  come  any  other  in  its  name. 

We  had  a  prosperous  year,  on  the  whole,  with 
cro"Wded  congregations ;  and  meetings  for  "  the 
fellowship  of  saints,"  whether  in  class  or  the  love- 
feast,  were  well  attended.  In  the  latter  part  of  the 
year,  to  relieve  myself  of  the  urgency  of  my  brother 
Gabriel,  I  addressed  a  note  to  Dr.  Maxcy,  of  the 
college,  as  if  to  inquire  whether  any  examination 
might  be  requisite  in  order  to  my  obtaining  a 
diploma;  which  he  replied  to  kindly,  and  at  the 
Commencement,  without  any  thing  further  on  the 
subject,  I  was  made — alias,  dubbed — A.  M. 

The  Conference  at  the  close  of  this  year  was  in 
Camden,  good  old  Camden,  with  its  Isaac  Smith, 
and  Mathis,  and  Brown,  and  Reynolds,  and  Thorn- 
ton, and  the  rest.  Bishop  Roberts  attended  it 
alone.  The  Conference  was  full,  and  whether  in 
its  business  sessions,  or  its  public  ministrations, 
was  an  excellent  one.  Brother  Hodges  was  then 
Presiding  Elder  of  the  Ogeechee  District,  and 
called  for  me  to  be  appointed  to  Savannah.  This 
place  (now  and  for  years  past  so  favorably  known 
as  one  of  the  most  desirable  of  our  stations)  was 
then  regarded  the  forlorn  hope.  There  was  no  ap- 
pointment in  the  Conference  half  so  unwelcome  to 
a  Methodist  preacher.  After  several  years  of  in- 
effectual effort  to  plant  a  Methodist  Church  on  the 
soil  which  had  been  trod  by  the  feet  of  the  Wesleys, 
Bishop  Asbury  had  determined  on  a  great  sacrifice 


208 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


for  it,  and  sent  tlie  lion  of  his  day,  James  Eussell,  ' 
who  had  passed  as  a  blazing  torchlight  through  the 
woodland  circuits,  and  was  thought  to  be  the  man 
for  Savannah  also.  But  he  failed,  and  Savannah 
proved  the  grave  of  his  power  and  success.  It  was 
not  a  citadel  to  be  taken  by  storm,  and  he  could 
not  get  a  hearing  of  those  who  might  have  esti- 
mated his  talents,  but  who  were  content  with  hear- 
ing of  him  that  he  was  a  wonderful  ranter.  Rus- 
sell, however,  got  a  church  built  by  this  sacrifice 
of  himself,  partly  by  his  influence  in  the  country, 
and  perhaps  more  by  the  aid  of  his  Presiding  El- 
der, the  Rev.  Lewis  Myers.  But  it  got  him  in  debt, 
and  he  engaged  himself  to  assist  the  United  States 
Quartermaster  by  foraging  for  the  troops ;  (for  it 
was  during  the  war  with  Great  Britain.)  And  thus 
he  lost  all  jDretension  to  ministerial  influence  or  use- 
fulness in  Savannah,  became  discoui-aged,  engaged 
in  money  speculations,  and  located.  We  had,  then, 
procured  a  meeting-house,  but  not  a  congregation. 
IsTor  had  we  gained  in  public  respect  or  confldence. 
My  good  brother,  the  Rev.  Henry  Bass,  afterwards 
labored  with  his  usual  faithfulness,  and  purged  the, 
puny  vine  of  some  of  its  rotten  branches,  and 
grafted  others  of  a  better  sort  into  it.  And  my 
impression  is  that  the  first  hope  of  success  for  the 
Methodists  in  Savannah  began  to  dawn  in  his 
labors  there.  But  after  him,  and  for  the  year  (1818) 
just  closed,  we  were  again  unfortunate.  The  Rev, 
Urban  Cooper  had  been  sent.  He  was  a  young 
man  of  uncommon  talents  and  engaging  manners, 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


209 


and  who  might  have  proved  eminently  useful ;  but 
he  found  no  accommodations  for  his  family,  or 
means  for  their  support,  and  declined  filling  the 
appointment.  And  yet,  under  all  these  adverse 
circumstances,  by  the  indomitable  perseverance  of 
brother  Myers,  the  former  Presiding  Elder,  we  had 
procured  a  parsonage-house  of  respectable  dimen- 
sions, which,  if  th'e  Bishop  would  send  me,  I  should 
have  the  use  of  for  the  year  1819.  But  it  was 
strongly  objected  to  by  the  Presiding  Elder  of  the 
Charleston  District,  who  wished  me  appointed  to 
the  city,  and  who  was  seconded  by  my  friend  Ken- 
nedy, who  thought  the  appointment  to  Savannah 
might  prove  an  oppressive  one.  In  this  state  of 
the  case,  the  Bishop  decided  that  if  I  was  free  to 
go,  he  would"  send  me  to  Savannah,  but  not  with- 
out my  consent.  Brother  Hodges  accordingly 
broke  the  subject  to  me,  but  I  declined  giving  an 
answer,  further  than  to  say,  that  I  was  more  free  to 
go  anywhere  than  to  interfere  in  the  least  degree 
with  my  appointment. 

"We  were  appointed  to  Savannah,  and  to  Savan- 
nah we  went.  IN'o  other  appointment  might  have 
been  more  suitable,  nor  afforded  a  finer  field  of 
usefulness,  than  this.  And  yet  the  announcement 
of  it  to  me  excited  feelings  of  exceeding  weakness. 
I  did  not  doubt  its  being  providential.  I  never 
found  it  difficult  to  believe  this  of  any  appointment 
at  any  time.  Indeed,  it  always  appeared  to  me  that 
if  there  was  any  thing  in  the  affairs  of  men  which 
Providence  might  be  believed  to  be  concerned  in, 


210 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


it  was  the  appointment  of  a  preacher  to  his  field 
of  labor;  involving,  as  it  must,  not  only  his  in- 
dividual interest,  but  that  of  so  many  others ;  and, 
whether  for  himself  or  the  people,  interests  of  the 
highest  moment.  I  supposed  my  appointment  to 
be  of  God,  and  did  not  doubt  it ;  nor  did  I  cherish 
for  a  moment  any  feeling  contrary  to  submission, 
and  an  instant  steady  purpose  to  obey.  But  there 
was  with  the  persuasion  of  its  being  providential, 
an  ap23rehension  as  if  the  Lord's  controversy  with 
me  for  having  left  the  work  by  locating  might  not 
have  been  ended;  and  the  appointment  to  so  sickly 
a  place  as  Savannah  was  reported  to  be,  (and  as 
probably  it  was  before  the  introduction  of  their  dry 
culture  system,)  seemed  to  announce  that  some 
calamity  was  overhanging  me.  Was  I  to  be  de- 
prived of  another  wife  ?  or  was  it  my  only  child, 
the  first-born,  and  now  sole  representative  of  my 
deceased  Anna  ?  Or  was  I  to  be  called  to  the  trial 
of  losing  them  both?  If  there  be  any  one  who 
can  reason  off  the  force  of  such  temptations,  I  have 
never  been  that  person.  I  have  found  how  I  could 
be  sustained  against  them,  "or  supported  under 
them,  so  as  that  till  they  should  be  removed  I 
might  neither  flinch  nor  fly,  but  I  have  found  no- 
thing more  than  this.  I  went  to  Savannah,  and 
entered  on  my  duties  there,  and  prosecuted  my 
labors  for  many  months  with  this  apprehension 
still  painfully  present.  But  it  did  me  no  harm,  if 
it  did  not  rather  serve  as  a  buckle  to  the  bond 
which  held  me  to  my  work,  adding  the  inscrip- 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


211 


tion  of  "jT  am  debtor,''  to  that  of  much  as  in 
me  is," 

I  found  things  in  a  much  better  condition  than 
I  had  expected.  Of  the  Savannah  or  Georgia 
people,  as  distinguished  from  those  who  were  there 
on  some  business  account,  we  had  but  few;  and 
of  these,  the  city  marshal,  then  a  young  man  and  a 
young  Methodist,  was  the  only  individual  of  any 
influence  in  society.  But  there  were  several  very 
worthy  men  and  well-established  Methodists  from 
New  York,  who  were  invaluable  to  us  as  official 
members.  Indeed,  I  found  myself  by  no  means 
on  a  "forlorn  hope'*  appointment,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, with  a  pretty  well  organized  little  church 
about  me.  That  most  excellent  man,  Eev.  Charles 
"W.  Carpenter,  was  then  there  as  a  local  preacher, 
and  relieved  me  of  any  pecuniary  responsibility, 
by  keeping  the  parsonage-house  for  us ;  we  having 
ample  accommodations  in  it,  excellent  fare,  and 
finding  in  him  and  his  wife  a  brother  and  sister 
whom  we  loved  as  if  they  had  both  been  born  ours. 
He,  too,  had  located  in  the  ISTew  York  Conference 
on  a  temporal  account,  and  went  into  business  with 
his  father,  (who  had  been  a  large  merchant  in  that 
city,)  and  established  a  branch  of  the  concern  in 
Savannah.  But  Charles's  ministry  and  merchandise 
proved  as  incompatible  as  mine  and  my  farming 
had  done,  and  the  house  failed.  The  failure  was 
one  of  sheer  misfortune,  and  neither  father  nor  son 
was  ever  suspected  of  the  slightest  wrong-doing. 
But  it  broke  up  their  business,  and  Charles  taught 
school  for  a  few  years,  and  returning  to  New  York, 


212  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

reentered  the  itinerancy  in  that  Conference,  where 
he  has  ever  since  been  known  as  one  of  the  purest 
of  men  and  best  of  ministers.  The  Church  in 
Savannah  owes  him  high  respect.  And  there  is 
another  name  which  deserves  its  honor  and  its 
gratitude,  though  not  of  our  denomination ;  as  in- 
f  deed  it  deserves  of  others  also  who  are  not  of  his 
denomination :  I  mean  the  E-ev.  Dr.  Henry  Kol- 
lock,  a  name  which  I  have  ever  loved  to  honor. 
Something  had  transpired  with  this  great  man, 
some  years  before,  which  had  involved  him  with 
his  presbytery.  His  congregation  grew  indignant 
at  it,  and  required  him  to  withdraw  from  the  pres- 
bytery and  identify  himself  with  the  Congrega- 
tionalists,  which  was  their  denomination.  Great 
excitement  followed,  and  the  Presbyterians  were 
exceedingly  offended.  ^Tot  the  Presbyterians  of 
Savannah,  for  I  believe  there  were  none  there,  or 
if  any,  they  were  with  Dr.  Kollock,  but  the  deno- 
mination, at  least  as  far  as  Charleston.  The  Doctor 
was  alone  silent  for  the  vindication  of  himself,  while 
all  Savannah  was  in  a  hubbub.  It  must  have  been 
ill-man-aged,  though  I  judge  not  of  it  There  was 
offence ;  and  that  is  always  a  noun  of  multitude, 
with  at  least  one  active  verb  for  every  nominative 
understood.  I  cannot  pretend  to  parse  it,  but 
there  was  trouble  in  the  Presbyterian  camp,  and 
trouble  in  Savannah ;  for  Savannah  seemed  to  be- 
long to  Dr.  Kollock,  as  fully  as  he  belonged  to  it. 
The  people  of  Savannah  knew  him  and  loved  him 
and  honored  him  as  they  never  did  any  other  man. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


213 


And  uo  wonder,  for  he  was  a  man  for  any  people 
to  be  proud  of  in  the  first  degree.  There  was  one 
characteristic  of  Kollock,  however,  both  indis- 
pensable and  inalienable  to  the  man,  which  I  have 
thought  might  have  been  chargeable  with  much  of 
this  trouble.  Of  all  men  he  seemed  the  last  to 
know  the  power  of  his  influence  over  his  people. 
He  seemed  incapable  of  a  thought  of  it,  much  less 
of  such  an  exertion  of  it  as  might  have  controlled 
them.  Could  he  have  known  and  felt  his  power,  he 
had  not  been  Dr.  Kollock ;  and  while  he  was  to  be 
seen  only  in  the  light  of  his  own  surpassing  grace- 
fulness pleading  for  the  presbytery  against  himself, 
it  was  a  pouring  of  oil  not  on  troubled  waters  which 
might  be  made  smooth,  but  on  a  raging  fire  which 
should  only  be  made  more  fierce  for  the  endeavor 
to  allay  it.  He  might  have  prevailed  for  the  pres- 
bytery, but  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  prevail 
against  himself;  and  he  found  himself,  as  he 
thought,  reduced  to  the  alternative  of  choosing  be- 
tween presbytery  and  his  people. 

I  had  come  to  Savannah,  having  heard  but  one 
side  of  the  question ;  but  I  had  heard  it  so  fully, 
and  from  persons  so  reliable,  that  my  mind  was 
prejudiced  against  the  Doctor  as  one  who  had 
evaded  discipline  and  kicked  against  the  Church. 
A  great  man  I  supposed  him  to  be,  who  had  not 
proved  good  enough  to  bear  to  be  corrected  for  a 
fault,  but  by  force  of  his  greatness  had  unworthily 
maintained  himself  in  the  ministry.  I  presently 
hoard  of  him  as  a  friend,  and  was  silent ;  as  a  good 


214  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

man,  and  answered  nothing.  I  thought  that  as  for 
me,  I  was  called  to  the  poor,  and  so  great  a  man 
would  hardly  he  found  standing  in  my  way.  He 
called  to  see  me;  and  I  saw,  I  thought,  in  his 
speaking  countenance,  the  grace  of  his  blended 
■dignity  and  meekness,  and  his  eloquent  conver- 
sation, how  the  people  had  been  taken  by  the  man. 
He  attended  my  ministry ;  and  that  I  could  not  so 
readily  account  for.  But  he  had  been  there  be- 
fore ;  had  frequently  been  at  the  Methodist  church, 
and  several  .times  had  preached  there ;  and  that 
too  I  could  not  explain.  But  the  greatest  puzzle  of 
all  was,  that  the  poorest  of  my  poor  knew  him, 
and  loved  him  as  a  benefactor;  and  go  where  I 
might  among  the  hovels  of  poverty,  his  tracks  had 
been  there ;  and  great  as  everybody  knew  him  to 
be,  these  poor  people  never  called  him  great,  but 
good:  ''Dear,  good  Dr.  Kollock"  was  their  usual 
title  for  him.  I  trust  I  have  never  been  so  un- 
amiable  as  to  prefer  thinking  evil  rather  than  good 
of  any  man  ;  but  I  had  certainly  been  unjust  to 
Dr.  Kollock ;  and  it  was  not  till  after  his  third  call 
that  I  went  to  see  him.  So  cruel  a  thing  is  pre- 
judice, and  so  wrong  it  is  for  one  to  make  up  his 
mind  on  any  matter  from  a  showing  on  one  side. 
I  say  that  I  make  mention  of  his  name  with  gra- 
titude, while  I  honor  his  memory  as  that  of  one  of 
the  greatest  men  of  my  time.* 


■*  I  hope  it  will  not  be  imputed  to  me,  for  this,  that  I  am,  or  ever 
was,  a  Calvinist.    Dr.  Kollock  never  suspected  any  such  thing  of  me. 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


215 


I  will  relieve  this  seeming  digression  by  an 
anecdote  of  some  years  previous  to  this.  At  the 
time  of  Dr.  Flinn's  leaving  Camden  for  Charleston, 
and  on  that  account,  he  incurred  the  displeasure 
of  some  of  his  own  sect,  among  whom  was  a  rather^ 
cynical  personage  by  the  name  of  Cowser.  There 
was  a  synod,  or  some  such  meeting,  held  in 
Charleston,  at  which  Dr.  Kollock  was  present,  and 
preached  with  great  eclat.  Cowser  and  Flinn  were 
both  present,  and  after  the  sermon,  the  former, 
tickled  with  an  occasion  for  mortifying  the  latter, 
who  also  was  very  eloquent,  went  up  to  him  and 
said,  "  Well,  Dr.  Flinn,  how  does  it  make  you  feel 
to  hear  such  a  man  as  ihatf  "Why,  brother 
Cowser,"  answered  the  Doctor  dryly,  "I  suppose  it 
may  make  me  feel  pretty  much  as  it  makes  you  feel 
to  hear  me  preach."  Good,  and  the  cynic  felt  the 
retort. 

From  the  beginning,  my  congregations  in  Savan- 
nah were  very  large ;  and  after  a  short  time,  the 
church  might  have  been  filled,  had  it  been  half 
again  as  large  as  it  was.  Strikingly  in  contrast  with 


or  of  my  brethren.  He  was  too  truly  great  and  good  to  shut  up  his 
zeal  for  Christ  and  religion  to  the  Calvinists  only.  But  there  is  a 
class  of  men  who  do  so ;  and  who  seem  to  think  that  any  courtesy 
or  service  extended  to  a  Methodist  might  be  profane.  Thus  I  had 
the  mortification  of  seeing  myself  published  as  a  "Calvinist  Me- 
thodist minister,"  in  certain  quarters,  because  I  had  preached  a 
funeral  sermon  on  the  occasion  of  Dr.  Kollock's  death.  And  I  sup- 
pose it  to  be  for  some  such  reason  that  a  certain  reverend  gentle- 
man in  Georgia  is  now  stoutly  afi&rming  in  the  newspapers  that  my 
late  colleague,  Bishop  Bascom,  was  a  Calvinist. 


216  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

the  cliurch.  in  Wilmington  in  1813,  there  were  very 
few  negroes  who  attended  Methodist  preaching; 
the  policy  of  the  place  allowing  them  separate 
churches,  and  the  economy  and  doctrines  of  the 
Baptist  Church  pleasing  them  better  than  ours. 
There  was  but  one  side  of  the  gallery  appropriated 
to  their  use,  and  it  was  always  the  most  thinly 
seated  part  of  the  church ;  while  there  were  two  re- 
spectably large  colored  churches  in  the  city,  with 
their  pastors,  and  deacons,  and  sacraments,  and 
discipline,  ail  of  their  own.  I  had  therefore  little 
access  to  this  portion  of  the  people,  and  could  do 
but  little  for  them.  Nevertheless,  our  few  mem- 
bers were  zealous  for  their  Church,  and  often  had 
controversies  with  their  Baptist  brethren  in  the 
neighborhood.  Fine  specimens  of  controversy,  to 
be  sure,  they  must  have  been ;  and  I  am  tempted 
to  give  a  sample  for  the  benefit  of  controversialists 
in  general. 

I  was  holding  a  love-feast  for  them,  and  Caesar, 
an  elderly  African,  spoke  with  great  animation 
of  a  good  meeting  he  had  had  across  the  river, 
at  which  somebody  had  agreed  to  join  the  Church, 
and  was  now  present  for  that  purpose.  And  when  he 
had  sat  down,  it  being  time  to  conclude  the  ser- 
vice, I  asked  him  if  I  had  understood  him  rightly, 
as  saying  that  he  had  brought  some  one  to  join 
the  Church. 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  he,  briskly,  "dat  da  him." 
"But  did  you  not  say,  old  man,  that  she  was  a 
Baptist?" 


AUTOBIOQRAPIIY. 


217 


"  Yes,  sir,  e  Bapty." 

"  But  why  don't  she  stay  with  her  own  peo- 
ple?" 

Here  he  arose,  and  putting  himself  in  an  oratori- 
cal posture,  he  proceeded  thus : 

"  You  see,  sir,  ober  we  side  de  riber,  (river,)  some 
Bapty  and  some  Metody.  An  de  Bapty,  dem  say 
de  ting  tan  (stand)  so,  (motioning  to  the  left,)  and 
de  Metody,  we  say  e  tan  so,  (motioning  to  the 
right.)  An  so  me  and  bro.  Tom,  we  bin  hab 
meetin  ;  and  one  Bapty  broder  bin  da,  and  dis  sister 
bin  da.  An  me  talk  pon  um,  an  de  Bapty  broder 
talk  pon  um ;  and  him  talk  and  me  talk  long  time. 
An  ater  (after)  dis  sister  set  down  da  long  time,  an 
yeddy  (hear)  we  good  fasin,  (fashion,)  e  tell  me  say, 
^  Bro.  Caesar,  me  tink  you  right.'.  Me  say,  Ki,  sister, 
you  say  you  tinke  me  right  ?  Me  know  me  right. 
So,  sir,  you  see  me  bring  um  to  you  fuh  (for)  join 
Church.  An  you  know,  sir,  de  Scripter  say,  de 
strongis  dog,  let  um  hole  (hold)  fas." 

And  who  might  have  been  the  weaker  dog  where 
Caesar  was  the  stronger  one  ?  Homely  work  must 
they  have  made  of  it,  but  I  dare  say  they  were  honest, 
which  is  more  than  I  would  say  for  some  better- 
bred  controvertists,  who,  with  a  fair  show  of  speech 
and  becoming  figures,  make  their  controversies 
like  a  dog-fight,  with  a  bone  (or  a  book)  for  the 
prize,  and  all  under  warrant  of  Scripture,  as  they 
hold  it. 

We  had  scarcely  been  made  comfortable  in  our 
new  quarters,  before  I  found  that  our  infant  Church 
10 


218  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

was  . heavily  in  debt.  And  as  I  thought  it  better  to 
clear  away  the  rubbish  at  first,  I  immediately  un- 
dertook a  journey  by  the  way  of  our  liberal  friends 
on  Black  Swamp,  in  Beaufort  District,  to  Charles- 
ton, for  the  purpose  of  removing  this  incubus.  I 
was  gone  about  three  weeks,  when  I  returned  with 
eighteen  hundred  dollars,  which,  together  with  an 
arrangement  for  renting  part  of  the  parsonage- 
house  for  a  few  years,  (which  had  been  constructed 
with  a  view  to  something  of  the  sort,)  cancelled  the 
debt,  and  set  us  at  liberty.  The  class  and  public 
collections  were  ample  for  all  our  wants,  and,  as 
regarded  temporal  things,  there  was  no  lack.  I 
might  not  say  that  we  "  fared  sumptuously  every 
day,"  but  we  had  a  comfortable  sufficiency  of  all 
good  things.  And  this  was  that  "forlorn  hope," 
which  had  been  considered  so  very  trying  that  my 
good  Bishop  would  not  send  me  to  it  till  he  had 
first  got  my  consent  to  go. 

With  respect  to  the  more  important  matters  of 
ministerial  success,  it  was  manifest  that  in  neither 
of  the  towns  where  I  had  been,  was  there  so  fair  a 
prospect  of  establishing  our  Church  as  here.  Dr. 
Kollock  was  right  in  judging  that  there  was  a  large 
and  respectable  portion  of  the  community  for  whom 
the  Methodist  ministry  promised  the  most  likely 
means  of  conversion.  And  it  was  this  judgment 
of  that  noble-minded  man  which  induced  him  to 
befriend  us.  As  time  passed  on,  it  was  seen  that 
we  had  gained  a  permanent  congregation,  who 
worshipped  nowhere  else,  but  morning,  afternoon, 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  219 

and  evening  were  to  be  found  at  the  Methodist 
church.  And  a  more  decorous  congregation  I  have 
never  preached  to. 

As  the  sickly  season,  came  on,  I  found  myself 
gradually  relieved  of  the  painful  apprehension 
which  had  been  so  troublesome  before.  There  was 
an  event  before  us  for  Mrs.  Capers,  but  it  came  off 
favorabl}^,  and  the  8th  of  August  gave  us  a  son, 
Francis  Withers.  My  first  son,  William  Theo- 
dotus,  whose  birth  had  proved  the  occasion  of  his 
mother's  d^ath,  had  died  about  the  time  of  my 
second  marriage. 

An  affectionate  people,  a  kind  and  respectful 
community,  crowded  congregations,  and  our  meet- 
ings for  Christian  fellowship  well  attended  and 
profitable,  made  this  year  one  to  be  remembered. 
What  was  thought  to  be  the  hardest  appointment 
I  could  have  received,  proved  the  best  I  ever  had 
had.  And  a  better,  no  one  need  desire,  of  my 
pretensions,  and  with  my  aims  in  view.  Every 
thing  went  well.  During  the  summer  it  became 
apparent  that  the  health  of  our  friend,  and. every- 
body's friend.  Dr.  Kollock,  was  permanently  in- 
jured. His  flesh  shrunk,  he  grew  pale  and  wan, 
his  countenance  lost  its  vivacity,  and  he  was  unable 
to  fulfil  the  duties  of  the  pulpit  or  the  pastorate. 

It  was  not  for  the  honor,  God  knows,  but  from  a 
grateful  sense  of  duty,  that  I  did  what  I  could  to 
supply  his  lack  of  service,  and  preached  for  him 
generally  once  on  the  Sabbath  day.  His  strength 
declined  more  and  more,  till  he  was  struck  with  para- 


220  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

lysis,  of  which  he  died.  It  was  on  Sunday,  just  as  he 
was  entering  the  door  of  his  house  on  his  return 
from  church,  that  he  suffered  the  fatal  shock  which 
deprived  him  instantly  of  consciousness,  and,  after 
a  few  days,  of  life.  And  I  am  the  more  particular 
to  mentioil  it,  that  I  may  notice  what  has  always 
apjDeared  to  me  the  most  imposing  and  affecting 
exhibition  of  Christian  sympathy  that  I  have  ever 
witnessed.  Prayers  were  offered  in  all  the  churches 
for  him  in  the  after-services  of  that  melancholy 
day,  of  course ;  but  what  I  allude  to  was  the  as- 
sembling of  his  congregation  daily,  morning  and 
afternoon,  with  the  ministers  and  members  of  the 
other  Churches,  in  his  church,  to  offer  prayers  to 
God  for  him.  The  Episcopalian  minister  was  not 
with  us,  onl}-  for  the  reason  that  a  "higher  law" 
than  humanity  or  charity,  public  virtue  or  personal 
worth,  required  his  absence.  ^5'othing  under  hea- 
ven might  induce  the  Jews  and  Samaritans  to  pray 
together,  though  they  might  pray  by  themselves 
apart;  and  Christians  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
for  being  under  the  obligations  of  a  like  "higher 
law,"  might  not  invalidate  their  exclusiveness  on 
any  possible  account.  But  it  was  affecting  to  be 
there.  The  multitude  of  persons  assembled,  the 
all-pervading  solemnity  of  the  scene,  the  intense 
interest  manifested  in  the  prayers,  and  the  tears 
that  accompanied  them,  while  the  man  of  God, 
whoiji  all  had  honored  for  his  virtues  and  his 
talents,  and  whose  eloquent  tongue  had  been  so 
often  listened  to  in  that  hguse  with  rapture,  lay 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


221 


speechless,  motionless,  unconscious  on  the  bed  of 
death,  all  conspired  with  unexampled  power  to  im- 
press us  deeply.  The  physicians  (who  were  always 
with  him)  had  told  us  that  his  death  was  certain, 
and  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  recover  con- 
sciousness, though  he  might  linger  for  some  time 
in  that  unconscious  state.  And  this  was  especially, 
deprecated.  Earnest,  fervent  prayers  were  oifered 
that  it  might  please  our  Heavenly  Father  to  restore 
him  to  his  senses,  if  but  for  an  hour;  and  this 
boon,  so  earnestly  <3ntreated  for,  was  granted  while 
w^e  were  at  prayer  on  the  morning  of  the  third  day. 
I  was  leading  the  exercises,'  when  a  messenger 
announced  that  our  sick  friend  had  called  for  me, 
and,  giving  the  book  to  another,  I  instantly  obeyed 
the  summons.  He  wias  deathly  pale,  and  the 
muscles  of  his  face  looked  relaxed  and  flabby,  but 
his  eye  was  that  of  Dr.  Kollock  in  his  best  estate, 
except  a  weakness  of  one  of  his  eyelids.  As  I  took 
his  hand,  and  said,  God  is  with  you,  my  dear  sir," 
he  answered  by  repeating  2  Cor.  i.  5,  ^^For  as  the 
sufferings  of  Christ  abound  in  us,  so  our  consola- 
tion also  aboundeth  by  Christ."  He  seemed  to 
know  that  it  would  cost  him  an  effort,  and  spoke 
very  slowly  but  distinctly  each  word  of  the  text  as 
above.  He  evidently  was  happy,  knowing  himself 
to  be  on  the  verge  of  Jordan,  and  his  Redeemer 
with  him.  Several  hours  were  allowed  him,  of  un- 
speakable interest  to  his  family  and  friends,  in  this 
calm  triumph  over  death  and  the  grave,  and  he  fell 
asleep  in  Jesus.  (And  I  repeat,  that  I  esteem  him 


222 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


to  have  been  one  of  the  noblest  of  men.)  The 
death  of  a  good  man  is  always  a  loss,  and  more  the 
death  of  a  good  minister;  but  the  death  of  Dr. 
Kollock  was  a  public  calamity  which  every  one 
deplored,  and  of  which  the  public  feeling  sought 
to  express  itself  in  the  strongest  manner  possible. 

The  Conference  at  the  close  of  the  year  was  held 
in  Charleston,  and  was  attended  by  Bishop  Mc- 
Kendree.  I  was  returned  to  Savannah  for  the  year 
1820  ;  and  this  being  the  session  for  the  election  of 
delegates  to  the  General  Conference  in  May,  1820, 
I  was  chosen  one  of  that  number. 

Returning  to  Savannah,  I  had  the  satisfaction  of 
receiving  a  most  hearty  welcome  from  the  Church 
and  the  community;  and  I  resumed  the  labors  of 
my  ministry  with  a  cheerful  spirit.  The  tinae  passed 
pleasantly  on,  in  the  usual  course  of  preaching 
three  times  every  Sabbath  day,  and  on  Wednesday 
evenings,  holding  one  or  two  prayer-meetings,  and 
visiting  the  classes  weekly,  and  whatever  else  my 
hand  found  to  do.  I  had  much  to  encourage, 
and  nothing  worth  mention  to  perplex  or  embarrass 
me. 

The  General  Conference  at  Baltimore,  May  1, 
required  me  to  leave  my  charge  early  in  April,  that 
I  might  attend  it.  Our  mode  of  travelling  was 
overland  to  Petersburg,  and  thence  (or  rather  from 
City  Point)  to  Baltimore  by  steamboat. 

At  this  General  Conference,  I  introduced  the 
measure  instituting  District  Conferences  for  the 
local  preachers.    It  was  my  first  essay  at  making 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 


223 


rules  and  regulaMons  for  tlie  Church,  and  was  alike 
successful  and  unlucky.  It  was  successful,  inas- 
much as  it  carried;  and  carried  too  without  any- 
serious  opposition  from  any  quarter ;  and,  I  think, 
with  less  discussion  and  greater  unanimity  than  I 
have  ever  known  in  the  adoption  of'  any  measure, 
which  proposed  the  introduction  of  a  new  feature 
into  our  ,  economy,  except  only  the  Plan  of  Separa- 
tion in  1844.  But  it  was  unlucky,  and  had  better 
not  have  been  adopted,  by  the  fault  of  certain  local 
preachers  of  the  Baltimore  Conference,  and  in 
some  other  parts  of  the  Connection  north  of  Balti- 
more, who  perverted  it  to  purposes  of  mischief. 
And  it  is  probable  that  this  was  induced,  in  part, 
by  the  discussion  of  "the  Presiding  Elder  ques- 
tion," which  was  warmly,  if  not  angrily,  urged  at 
that  General  Conference,  in  presence  of  those  very 
local  preachers  who  were  shortly  to  give  us  trou- 
ble. But  I  have  yet  to  be  convinced  that  this  mea- 
sure of  District  Conferences  deserves  to  be  consid- 
ered "a  startling  innovation,''  as  Dr.  Bangs  calls  it 
in  his  History  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
(vol.  iii.,  page  142,  edition  1841,)  or  that  the 
abuses  by  which  it  was  dishonored,  if  ''foreseen'' 
by  any  member  of  the  General  Conference,  were 
brought  to  the  notice  of  that  body.  There  may 
have  been  those  who,  knowing  the  temper  of  local 
preachers  in  parts  of  the  Connection  unknown  to 
me,  foresaw  or  suspected  what  came  to  pass  in  the 
action  of  a .  few  of  the  District  Conferences,  as 
above  stated ;  but  I  am  sure  that  I  heard  of  no 


224  LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

sucli  prognostications  before  the  event,  neither  in 
the  General  Conference,  nor  out  of  it.  I  sincerely 
attribute  the  failure  of  the  District  Conferences  to 
the  agitation  of  the  Presiding  Elder  question^''  in 
view  of  the  importance  which  was  given  to  it,  and 
the  vehemence  with  which  it  was  urged.  And  to 
the  same  source  is  traceable  all  the  '^radical"  dis- 
turbances which  resulted  in  the  formation  of  the 
Protestant  Methodist  Church.  We  learn  from  the 
same  author  that  many  of  the  local  preachers  them- 
selves were  much  dissatisfied  with  the  District 
Conference,  while  "  in  others,  where-  they  were  most 
- '  active  in  'procuring  the  passage  of  the  law  creating  and 
defining  the  powers  of  this  Conference,  a  spirit  of  in- 
subordination incompatible  with  the  rights  and 
privileges  of  the  itinerancy  began  to  manifest  itself, 
and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  injudicious 
measure,  which  had  been  presented  to  and  carried 
through  the  Conference  with  some  precipitancy, 
tended  to  foment  that  spirit  of  radicalism  which 
ended  in  the  secession  of  the  party  who  styled  them- 
selves reformers,  and  who  have  since  organized 
under  the  name  of  the  "Protestant  Methodist 
Church." 

It  is  certainly  an  error  to  ascribe  to  the  District 
Conferences  a  tendency  to  foment  the  spirit  of 
radicalism  ;  for  there  was  nothing  in  the  nature  of 
the  institution,  nor  in  the  act  of  the  General  Con- 
ference granting  it,  which  might  have  any  such 
tendency.  Its  whole  scope  and  design  was  to 
elevate  and  improve  the  local  preachers,  and  to 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  225 

bring  them  into  cloaipr  connection  with  the  itine- 
rancy. But  something  there  was  which  "  tended 
to  foment  that  spirit  of  radicalism,"  and  of  that 
something  the  historian  was  not'  so  free  to  speak, 
for,  unfortunately,  he  was  oh  the  wrong  side,  and 
one  of  the  principal  advocates  of  the  measure ;  I 
mean  the  proposition  to  transfer  from  the  Bishops 
to  the  Annual  Conferences  the.  appointment  of 
Presiding  Elders,  which  next  to  the  question  of 
slavery  was  the  most  mischievous,  and  was  alto- 
gether the  most  radical,"  and  most  vehemently 
insisted  on,  of  all  the  questions  which  have  dis- 
tracted General  Conferences  in  my  time.  The 
debate  at  this  Conference,!  have  already  character- 
ized as  vehement,  if  not  angry.  The  power  of  the 
Bishops  was  assailed  as  incompatible  with  the  prin- 
ciples of  right  government,  and  while  no  instance 
was  adduced,  nor  could  be  adduced,  of  an  abuse  of 
that  power  to  the  injury  of  any  one,  its  curtail- 
ment was  insisted  on  with  as  much  earnestness  as 
if  heaven  and  earth  had  been  staked  on  the  issue. 
That  the  Bishop  was  elected  by  the  eldership,  and 
held  to  the  strictest  accountability  to  that  elder- 
ship for  every  act  of  his  administration,  was  not 
sufficient  for  any  thing  but  tyranny,  as  the  inno- 
vators held  it,  but  required  the  balance  of  a  set  of 
men  to  be  elected  in  each  Annual  Conference  for 
the  purpose  of  dictating  to  the  Bishop  the  action 
which  he  alone  should  be  answerable  for.  If  I 
have  known  what  has  been  meant  by  th^^i  wrd 
"radical,"  I  first  heard  the  principles  of  radicalism 
8 


226  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

broaclied  and  insisted  on  in  gtliat  General  Confer- 
ence of  1820.  There  the  local  preachers  had  their 
radicalism  instilled  into  them,  or  if  not,  and  they 
were  radicals  before,  they  must  have  been  greatly 
comforted  and  edified  in  their  previous  faith  by 
what  they  heard  from  travelling  preachers.  At 
any  rate,  the  same  outcry  against  the  power  of  the 
Bishops  which  has  been  the  key-note  of  radicalism 
from  that  day  to  this,  was  raised  to  a  high  pitch  by 
that  party  of  travelling  preachers  who  insisted  on 
electing  the  Presiding  Elders  as  a  check  on  the 
authority  of  the  Bishops ;  and  it  continued  to 
be  vociferated  at  several  successive  General  Con- 
ferences, till  its  evident  evil  fruits  in  the  radical 
secession  gave  it  its  end.  It  was  my  opinion  at 
the  time,  and  I  have  not  been  enabled  to  change  it 
by  any  thing  I  have  known  since,  that  the  object 
of  that  party  in  the  itinerant  ministry  was  to  en- 
feeble the  administration  in  the  appointment  of  the 
preachers,  that  the  itinerancy  might  be  naade  more 
convenient  to  them.  Their  fears  of  the  episcopal 
authority  supplied  the  place  of  any  known  or 
alleged  impropriety  on  the  part  of  the  Bishops  in 
the  exercise  of  the  appointing  power.  They  did 
not  mean  a  revolution  which  should  set  aside  the 
Episcopacy  altogether,  but  they  both  meant,  and 
plied  their  utmost  efforts  to  effect,  such  an  enfeeble- 
ment  of  it,  as  we  believed  would  lead  ultimately  to 
that  result.  So  also  I  would  say  of  the  local 
preachers  who  appeared  so  deeply  interested  for 
their  success,  and  who,  till  the  secession,  were  un- 


AtTOBIOGRAPUY. 


227 


derstood  to  be  in  correspondence  witli  that  kindred 
party  of  itinerants.  ■  I  have  no  idea  that,  at  the 
first,  they  intended  either  revolution  or  secession, 
but  that  with  the  measure  which  proposed  to  give 
leading  ministers  a  positive  influence  over  their 
appointments  in  the  itinerancy,  or  shortly  to  follow 
it,  there  should  be  allowed  a  delegation  of  local 
preachers,  under  the  name  of  a  lay  delegation,  in 
the  General  Conference.  This  was  hinted  at  by 
inore  than  one  speaker,  and  oftener  than  once  or 
twice,  during  the  discussion  on  "the  Presiding 
Elder  question,"  as  a  thing  right  and  proper  to  be 
done.  ' 

But  of  all  these  things  I  was  entirely  ignorant 
when  I  drew  up  in  Savannah,  in  the  month  of 
March,  the  plan  foi^  improving  the  local  preachers 
by  the  institution  of  a  District  -Conference.  I  no 
more  dreamed  of  the  radicalism  of  a  lay  delegation 
to  the  General  Conference,  for  the  purpose  of  in- 
troducing local  preachers  there,  than  of  that'  other 
feature  of  the  same  thing,  which  I  was  astonished 
to  hear  so  stoutly  advocated  by  leading  ministers 
of  the  itinerancy  in  the  General  Conference,  re- 
specting the  power  which  should  appoint  the 
preachers.  I  have  ever  considered  these  two  prin- 
ciples— a  delegation  of  local  preachers  in  the  Gen- 
eral Conference,  and  the  travelling  preachers  taking 
a  share  in  their  own  appointments — as  being  alike 
"radical"  with  respect  to  the  economy  of  Method- 
ism. But  at  this  General  Conference  of  1820,  let 
it  b3  remembered,  the  disturbing  question  was  not 
that  of  a  lay  delegation,  but  of  the  election  of  the 


228  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


^Presiding  Elders  by  tlie  Annual  Conferences  as  a 
check  on  the  authority  proper  to  the  Bishops ;  and 
the  disturbers  were  not  local  preachers,  but  travel- 
ling preachers,  from  whom  and  their  question  the 
transition  was  easy  and  natural  to  the  local 
prieachers  and  their  question.  It  was  most  unfor- 
tunate that  the  District  Conference  should  have 
been  introduced  into  our  economy  at  such  a  time  ; 
the  most  unpropitious  that  could  have  been  fallen  on. 

The  entire  measure,  first  and  last,  was  conceived  " 
and  proposed  by  myself.  I  had  neither  conference, 
conversatioh,  nor  correspondence  with  any  local 
preacher  on  the  subject,  neither  before  the  General 
Conference,  nor  during  the  time  of  its  session,  prior 
to  its  final  action  on  the  subject,  neither  at  home, 
at  Baltimore,  nor  anywhere  else.  I  have  already 
said  that  I  was  entirely  ignorant  of  any  dissatisfac- 
tion (not  to  say  insubordination)  among  the  local 
preachers  in  any  part  of  the  Connection,  but  sup- 
posed them  to  be  in  other  Conferences,  as  I  knew 
them  to  be  in  the  South  Carolina  Conference,  as  well 
satisfied  with  the  economy  of  the  Church  as  any 
other  portion  of  her  members  were.  I  now  believe, 
and  have  long  since  believed,  that  there  were  about 
Baltimore,  and  perhaps  north  of  it,  certain  eminent 
local  preachers  who,  at  the  time  of  the  General 
Conference  in  1820,  were  dissatisfied  with  the 
economy  of  the  Church,  in  so  far  as  it  excluded 
them  from  a  direct  participation  in  its  government ; 
but  I  neither  knew  it  nor  suspected  it  at  the  time; 
nor  did  I  know-  any  thing  then  about  the  men, 
more  than  the  respectability  of  their  names. 


LIFE  OF  WILLIAM  CAPEES, 

FROM 

HIS  THIRTY-FIRST  YEAR  TO  HIS  DEATH. 
BY  WILLIAM  M.  WIGHTMAN,  D.D. 


LIFE 

0  F 

WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Value  of  autobiography — Mr.  Capers  appointed  Superintendent 
of  a  Mission  to  the  Creek  Indians — Stationed  at  Milledgeville, 
Georgia. 

The  foregoing  autobiography  traces  minutely, 
and  with  fidelity,  the  inner  life  as  well  as  the  out- 
ward circumstances  of  William  Capers,  from  in- 
fancy up  to  his  thirty-first  year.  It  lays  bare  the 
formative  influences,  parental,  domestic,  and  edu- 
cational, which  produced  the  man.  We  are  per- 
mitted to  see  the  boy-impulses  ripening  into  char- 
acter and  manners;  the  aspirations  of  ambitious 
youth ;  the  providential  ordering  of  early  circum- 
stances so  as  to  make  them  all  converge  upon  the 
great  life-determining  event — his  conversion  to 
God.  Sharply  defined,  admitting  of  no  after-doubt, 
the  realized  result  of  a  Divine  visitation,  conferring 

(231) 


232 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


stable  peace  of  mind  and  all  the  attributes  of  the 
renewed  character,  this  grand  crisis  is  the  point  of 
departure  from  which,  having  "broken  with  the 
world,"  his  course  of  yjublic  usefulness  began,  en^ 
larging  into  distinguished  eminence,  and  termi- 
nating at  length  in  the  laurelled  honors  of  a  trium- 
phant death,  and  a  memory  precious  and  embalmed 
in  the  affections  of  a  sorrowing  Church. 

We  are  now  to  trace  the  incidents  of  a  jjublic 
life,  extending  from  his  thirty-first  to  his  sixty-fifth 
year ;  crowded  with  labors  and  responsibilities ; 
acted  out  in  the  presence  of  a  great  cloud  of  wit- 
nesses ;  touching  the  story  of  the  Methodist  Church 
at  many  vital  points ;  illustrating  the  care  of  a 
watchful  Providence  ;  made  signal  by  the  presence 
of  the  paramount  law  of  duty;  displaying  the 
"triple  nobility  of  nature,  culture,  and  faith;" 
lived  out  to  its  last  act  without  fear  and  without 
reproach,  and  conferring  upon  society  advantages, 
moral  and  spiritual,  of  the  highest  worth.  What- 
ever belonged  to  him  of  dignity,  of  unity  of  char- 
acter, of  lofty  purpose,  of  sustained  energy  and 
activity :  in  a  word,  every  element  which  contrib- 
uted its  force  in  winning  the  battle  of  life  and 
achieving  distinction,  may  be  referred  to  the  domi- 
nation of  the  religious  principle  in  his  heart.  The 
w^hole  life,  in  its  manifold  relations,  crowded  with 
active  engagements,  brilliant  in  many  of  its  pas- 
sages, and  not  free  from  the  touch  of  sorrow  and 
the  pressure  of  adversity,  is  formed  on  the  grand 
ideas  of  religion.    It  is  a  noble  development  of  the 


THE    CHEEK    INDIANS.  238 

true  theory  of  life.  The  foundation-maxim  of  the 
whole  was,  that  the  value  of  any  thing  is  the  price 
it  will  bear  in  eternity.  Steering;  steadily  by 
the  light  of  this  guiding  principle,  notliing  was 
trusted  to  the  accidents  of  winds  and  waves ;  the 
right  direction  was  always  maintaiiied,  and  the 
right  port  made  at  the  end. 

The  . Missionary  Society  of  the  Methodist  Episco- 
^  w*pal  Church  was  organized  in  1819,  in  the  city 
of  I^ew  York ;  and  at  the  General  Conference,  held- 
the  next  year,  the  constitution  was  amended,  and 
branch  societies  were  recommended  to  be  formed  in 
all  the  Annual  Conferences.  "The  first  mission  estab- 
g  lished  was  among  the  Wyandot  Indians,  a  tribe  in 
Ohio.  The  next  was  a  mission  to  the  Creek  In- 
dians, occupying,  at  that  time,  lands  in  Georgia 
'  and  Alabama,  east  and  west  of  the  Chattahoochee 
river.  At  the  session  of  the  South  Carolina  Con- 
feirfence  of  1821,  Mr.  Capers  was  selected  by  Bishop 
McKendree  to  set  on  foot  this  mission.  Leaving 
his  family  in  Savannah  until  April,  Mr.  Capers  set 
out  on  horseback  on  an  extensive  tour  of  appoint- 
ments, for  the  purpose  of  awakening  public  atten- 
tion to  the  moral  and  religious  improvement  of  this 
tribe  of  Indians,  who  occupied  the  western  frontier 
of  the  Conference.  Contributions  were  solicited 
for  the  purpose  of  erecting  mission  premises,  and 
establishing  a  school ;  and  the  project,  in  the  hands 
of  so  eloquent  an  advocate,  met  with  general  favor. 

In  April,  six  weeks  after  the  birth  of  his  daughter, 
Susan,  now  the  wife  of  Prof.  Stone,  of  Emory  Col- 


234 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


lege,  he  removed  his  family  to  Georgetown,  South 
Carolina.  Heavy  rains  had  fallen,  and  rivers  and 
creeks  were  swollen  with  freshets.  Mr.  Capers 
was  driving  the  carriage  containing  his  wife,  chil- 
dren, and  nurse ;  and  coming  to  along  bridge,  drove 
upon  it  without  knowing  that  the  farther  end  was 
washed  away.  Some  workmen,  however,  happened 
to  be  near,  and  by  their  aid  a  bateau  was  brought 
up,  and  Mrs.  Capers  and  the  children  were  carried 
safely  to  land.  Mr.  Capers  then  loosed  the  horses, 
and  sitting  in  the  bateau,  plunged  them  through, 
holding  the  reins.  The  carriage  was  then  floated 
over  without  much  damage.  Farther  on,  a  deep 
creek  was  passed  by  means  of  a  floating  log,  over  , 
which  the  family  were  transported,  while  Mr. 
Capers  swam  the  horses  and  carriage  over. 

On  the  19th  of  August  he  left  Augusta  on  his 
way  to  the  Creek  Indians.  This  tour  was  under- 
taken to  ascertain  whether  they  could  be  persuaded 
to  receive  missionaries  among  them,  inasmuch  as, 
some  time  previously,  they  had  declined  being  thus 
served.  At  Clinton  Mr.  Capers  was  joined  by  Col. 
R..  A.  Blount,  a  personal  friend,  and  an  invaluable 
ally  in  this  enterprise.  The  Governor  of  Georgia 
waited  on  him  at  Milledgeville,  and  tendered  his 
official  recommendation  under  the  seal  of  the  Ex- 
ecutive Department.  On  the  29th,  Col.  Blount 
and  he  set  out  on  horseback,  each  with  a  blanket, 
great-coat,  umbrella,  saddlebags,  and  wallet.  They 
carried  sugar  and  coffee ;  and  on  one  side  of  Mr.  Ca- 
pers's  saddle  hung  a  coffee-pot,  on  the  other  a  tin- 


THE    CREEK  INDIANS. 


235 


cup.  They  entered  the  Creek  nation  on  the  1st  of 
September.  On  the  next  day,  Sunday,  he  preached 
the  first  missionary  sermon  ever  heard  ia  the  then 
dreary  country  between  the  Flint  and  Chatta- 
hoochee rivers.  This  was  at  the  house  of  a  Mr. 
Spain ;  his  congregation  consisting  of  a  few  whites 
and  blacks,  and  five  Indians.  The  text  was  appro- 
priate :  "  The  land  of  Zabulon,  and  the  land  of 
Is'ephthalim,  by  the  way  of  the  sea,  beyond  Jordan, 
Galilee  of  the  Gentiles :  The  people  which  sat  in 
darkness  saw  great  light,  and  to  them  which  sat  in 
the  region  and  shadow  of  death  light  is  sprung  up." 
The  next  day  they  reached  the  house  of  a  Mr.  Por- 
ter, and  the  day  following  passed  five  or  six  miles 
up  the  river,  through  rich,  low  grounds.  Here 
they  reached  Coweta,  the  principal  part  of  the 
town  lying  on  the  east  side  of  the  Chattahoochee. 
Crossing  the  ferry,  they  entered  the  public  square, 
where  they  found  Col.  Mcintosh,  one  of  the  chiefs. 
Mr.  Capers  gave  him  some  letters,  and  was  told 
that  an  interview  would  be  afforded  him  on  the  next 
morning. 

Here  he  witnessed  an  Indian  ball-play.  As  one 
of  the  principal  sports  of  savage  life,  Mr.  Capers's 
description  of  it  may  interest  the  reader :  ^'  There 
now  arrived  a  company  of  players,  who,  upon 
coming  up  to  the  square,  raised  a  yell,  and  ran  furi- 
ously around,  whooping  and  yelling,  with  short, 
exact  pauses  as  they  ran — every  individual  changing 
his  voice  and  pausing  simultaneously.  I  confess  I 
felt  what  might  be  called  a  fine  effect.  Waugh, 


236  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

waugh,  waugh,  distinctly  hallooed  by  an  hundred 
loud  voices,  every  one  breathing  a  like  sound  at  the 
same  breath,  and  pausing  between  the  repetition 
just  long  enough  for  the  full  play  of  the  lungs 
upon  the  sound  that  should  follow ;  and  the  deep, 
full  sound  of  waugh,  suddenly,  but  with  the  nicest 
precision,  lifted  into  a  most  piercing  yell — and 
this,  in  turn,  changed  for  a  softer  note— and  then 
all  alternated,  produced  a  pleasurable  amazement. 
I  could  not  but  observe  how  well  adapted  was  the 
arrangement  of  the  sounds,  and  the  time  they  were 
uttered  in,  to  produce  the  loudest  effort  of  the 
voice  with  the  least  fatigue.  This  exercise  was 
called  a  challenge,  and  I  suppose  those  who  per- 
formed it  were  to  act  together  in  the  play.  They 
had  reduced  their  dress  to  a  single  piece  of  blue  or 
red  woollen  cloth,  thirty  or  forty  inches  long  and 
eight  wide,  passing  closely  under  the  body,  and 
supported  by  a  strong  string  about  the  waist,  the 
ends  falling  over  the  string  and  forming  a  flap 
before  and  behind.  These  flaps  were  narrowed 
down  to  four  inches  width,  or  tapered  to  a  point, 
and  bound  with  green,  red,  or  yellow  ferretting, 
according  to  the  taste  and  ability  of  the  wearer. 
It  is  the  only  garment  that  modesty  obliged  an 
Indian  to  wear.  Fastened  under  the  string  that 
supports  this  nameless  covering,  from  the  bottom 
of  the  back  rising  upwards  to  the  shoulder-blade, 
the  more  highly  ornamented  players  wore  a  tail  of 
the  tiger,  or  fox,  or  wolf,  or  furs  twisted  together 
so.  as  to  resemble  this;  and  sometimes  a  single 


INDIAN  BALL-PLAY. 


237 


feather,  or  a  mop  of  them,  taken  from  the  goose, 
or  cock,  or  owl,  substituted  a  plume.  These,  with 
wide  w^oollen  garters,  earHngs,  and  a  little  paint 
or  soot  blotched  upon  the  face,  dressed  them  to 
their  highest  wishes. 

"  But  more  remarkable  than  even  their  undress 
or  their  music,  was  the  wonderful  manner  of  their 
running  round  a  small  tree  during  the  challenge. 
Huddled  together  within  a  diameter  of  thirty  or 
forty  feet,  every  individual  was  in  rapid  motion, 
without  contracting  or  extending  the  circle,  and 
with  such  regularity  that  those  nearest  the  centre 
never  jostled  each  6ther.  Their  regularity  was 
like  the  wheeling  of  a  platoon,  and  the  swiftness 
of  their  motion  like  a  wheel  upon  its  axle. 

"The  challenge  over,  they  went  off  separately, 
and  we  soon  after  followed  to  the  place  of  their 
amusement.  It  was  a  level  but  not  very  open 
piece  of  mixed  woods,  about  three  hundred  yards 
distant  from  the  square.  We  were  quite  in  time 
to  observe  all  the  preparation  for  the  play.  Two 
small  saplings,  at  their  base  four  feet  ,  apart, 
and  inclined  outwards  at  top,  were  stuck  into  the 
earth  at  ■  either  end  of  the  ball -ground,  a  distance 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards.  Just  beyond,  at 
the  nearer  pair  of  poles,  a  company  of  players  were 
irregularly  tossing  and  catching  a  ball  with  their 
sticks ;  and  nearer  us  the  women  and  children  were 
squatted  about,  listlessly  waiting  the  play.  A 
number  of  Indians  (and  the  number  constantly  in- 
creasing) were  lounging  all  about  us.    Here  was 


'l^S  LI  EE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPEHS. 


Tustunnnggee  Hopoi  (the  Little  Prince)  and  Mc- 
Intoah ;  the  one  sitting  on  the  bare  ground,  with 
his  back  supported  against  a  tree ;  the  other  tying 
at  full  length,  undistinguished  among  the  herd  of 
loiterers.  I  was  surprised  to  observe  them  neither 
better  dressed  'nor  more  attended  than  the  rest. 
Hopoi's  countenance  was  more  in  character  than 
his  apparel ;  but  Mcintosh,  with  a  shrewder  look, 
that  would  seem  to  hide  himself,  discovered  nothing 
of  the  chief  about  him. 

Here  and  there  I  could  observe  one  proposing 
a  wager.  A  pair  of  bells,  tobacco,  and  some,  money 
were  exposed  for  betting;  but  bets  were  not  fre- 
quent. The  hurried  action  of  the  increased  com- 
pany of  players,  apprised  us  that  the  play  would 
soon  commence.  Kow  the  opposite  company  of 
players  were  discovered  beyond  the  farther  pair  of 
poles.  A  well-dressed  Indian,  mounted  on  a  good 
pony,  galloped  hastily  along  the  ground  from  party 
to  party,  as  if  to  arrange  for  their  coming  together. 
Immediately  those  I  had  first  observed  huddled 
themselves  for  the  challenge.  This  was  begun  a 
little  beyond  and  to  the  left  of  the  poles,  and  con- 
tinued as  at  the  square,  only  that  the  group  main- 
tained a  direction  toward  the  poles  at  the  same 
time  with  their  swift  vertical  running.  Wlien  op- 
posite the  poles,  their  opponents  exhibited  the  same 
manoeuvre,  and  then,  with  the  wildest  gesticula- 
tion and  great  clamor,  both  parties  ran  together. 

"  Lovett  had  placed  himself  midway  between  the 
poles,  and  served  as  the  pivot  on  which  the  whole 


INDIAN  BALL-PLAY. 


239 


seemed  to  turn  for  five  minutes  ;•  while  their  whoops 

and  yells  (measured  and  alternated  as  before,  but 
with  redoubled  violence)  roused  the  whole  con- 
\  course  of  spectators  to  their  feet.  A  pause  ensued. 
The  equal  number  of  the  parties  was  ascertained 
by  their  laying  down  in  opposite  rows  their  ball- 
sticks.  These  resemble  a  battledoor,  only  that  the 
hooped  end  of  the  stick  is  not  so  broad,  and,  instead 
of  being  overlaid  with  parchment,  has  only  a  few 
slack  strings  drawn  across  the  hoop,  close  enough  to 
retain  the  ball,  and  not  so  slack  as  to  entangle  it. 
There  were  one  hundred  and  fifty  pair  of  sticks, 
and  these  ascertained  to  be  equally  divided,  seven- 
ty-five players  being  on'  either  side. 

"  The  parties  having  been  found  equal,  each  took 
up  their  sticks,  and  placed  themselves  promiscu- 
ously about  the  ground,  the  greater  number  stand- 
ing near  the  centre.  Every  countenance  was  ex^ 
pressive  of  eager  expectation  until  the  ball  was 
tossed  up  and  the  play  , began.  Either  party  strove 
against  the  other  to  throw  the  ball  between  an  op- 
posite pair  of  poles,  for  which  purpose  the  sticks 
only  were  to  be  used.  Their  dexterity  in  this,  and 
their  adroitness  in  foiling  each  other,  were  indeed 
surprising.  As  soon  as  eithfer  party  had  succeeded 
to  throw  the  ball  between  the  poles,  another 
was  tossed  up  from  the  centre  of' the  ground;  and 
their  violent  exercise,  without  the  slightest  inter- 
mission, was  continued  nearly  three  hours.  Each 
party  had  gained  the  ball  seventeen,  times,  when 
the  dusk  of  evening  concluded  their  unfinished 


240  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS.' 

game.  Mclntosli  signified  to  them  that  they  should 
desist,  and  placed  himself  for  their  rallving-point, 
round  which  their  shouts  and  yells  were  bellowed 
forth  with  more  breath  than  ever;  and  they  all 
dispersed. 

^'  It  would  be  difficult  to  tell  the  feelings  under 
which  my  mind  labored  through  the  scenes  of  this 
day.  I  hope  I  have  never  been  insensible  to  the 
moral  condition  of  the  heathen ;  and  since  my  ap- 
pointment as  the  Conference  missionary,  it  has 
employed  my  thoughts  and  my  care  far  more  than 
formerly.  I  had  read  something  and  imagined 
more,  but  the  scene  was  laid  at  too  great  a  distance. 
I  had  not  supposed  that  so  close  at  the  door  of 
civilized  man — just  beyond  sight  of  the  Bible  and 
the  sound  of  our  sacred  services — there  could  exist 
so  gross  a  state  of  human  degradation.  The 
evidence  of  my  own  senses,  in  the  sudden,  shame- 
ful scene  at  the  river,  amazed  and  dejected  me; 
and  now,  that  for  four  long  hours  I  had  witnessed 
the  whole  parade  of  whooping  and  yelling,  of  paint 
and  nakedness,  I  had  scarcely  any  spirit  left." 

They  passed  the  night  at  Xoble  Kennard's,  one 
of  the  head  men  at  Coweta,  and  brother-in-law  of 
Mcintosh,  who  had  distinguished  himself  in  the 
late  war.  The  next  morning  Mcintosh,  accom- 
panied with  Lovett  as  an  interpreter,  waited  on 
Mr.  Capers.  He  was  a  half-breed,  understood  Eng- 
lish very  well,  and  had  served  under  Gen.  Jackson 
in  the  Seminole  war  in  1818.  Indian  etiquette  re- 
quired, however,  that  he  should  communicate  with 


\  PRELIMINARIES   SETTLED.  241 

Mr.  Capers  only  through  an  interpreter.  lie  intro- 
duced the  conversation  by  saying  that  he  had  come 
as  he  had  promised,  ^and  waited  to  hear  what  was 
to  be  said.  Mr.  Capers  replied  that  he  came  only 
on  the  errand  of  charity,  as  the  agent  of  the  Church, 
'and  under  the  patronage  of  government.  The  gov- 
ernment wished  to  better  the  condition  of  the  In- 
dians by  having  their  children  instructed,  and  the 
Churches  felt  it  their  sacred  duty  to  go  forward  in 
this  good  work ;  that  neither  their  money  nor  their 
lands  were  sought,  but  only  an  opportunity  to  do  them 
good ;  that  for  eight  months  he  had  been  employed 
in  preaching  and  making  collections  to  defray  the 
expenses  of  a  school,  and  was  ready  to  introduce 
one  among  them ;  that,  to  assure  th-e  chiefs  of  his 
good  intentions,  and  the  benevolence  of  the  Chtirch 
he  represented,  he  had  letters  from  Gov.  Clark,  and 
from  Generals  Meriwether,  Mcintosh,  and  Mitchell, 
of  Georgia,  all  which  Col.  Blount  would  read  to 
him ;  and  that  he  had  also  a  letter  from  Mr.  Cal- 
houn, Secretary  of  War,  to  Mr.  Crowell,  their 
agent;  and,  finally,  that  he  had  committed  to 
writing  the  substance  of  what  he  had  to  propose  to 
the  chiefs.  Mcintosh  wished  to  hear  the  letters 
read,  and  the  paper  that  contained  the  "  talk"  to  the 
chiefs,  saying  at  the  same  time  that  neither  he  nor 
the  chiefs  then  at  Coweta  could  conclude  any  thing 
on  the  business,  but  must  wait  a  General  Council 
of  all  the  chiefs  of  the  nation,  without  which,  and 
the  consent  of  the  agent,  no  white  man  could  be 
permitted  to  live  among  them.    The  papers  were 


242 


LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


accordingly  read  by  Col.  Blount ;  after  which  Mc- 
intosh signified  his  approval  of  the  proposed  object, 
and  appeared  pleased  with  the  conditions  specified. 
He  suggested  that  the  papers  should  be  confided  to 
Lovett  until  the  meeting  of  the  Council,  w^hich  he 
assured  Mr.  Capers  should  be  held  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible after  the  agent's  return. 

In  October  Mr.  Capers  made  a  second  visit  to 
the  Creeks,  accompanied  by  the  Rev.  C.  G.  Hill, 
who  had  been  selected  to  reside  in  the  nation  in 
the  even^  of  a  successful  application.  The  i^ational 
Council  was  held  early  in  I^ovember,  ^  and  the 
articles  of  agreement  submitted  were  accepted  by 
the  chiefs.  Mr.  Hill  was  left  to  board  with  Lovett, 
and  Mr.  Capers  set  out  immediately  for  Augusta 
to  procure  supplies  and  employ  workmen ;  having 
shown  address  equal  to  his  zeal  in  managing  a 
negotiation  peculiarly  difiacult  under  the  circum- 
stances. On  his  way  back  he  attended  a  camp- 
meeting  in  Jones  county.  The  transition  from  an 
Indian  council  to  a  camp-meeting  awakened  strong 
emotions  in  him ;  he  describes  his  feelings  in  the 
following  paragraph:  "It  was  night,  and  I  had 
lost  my  way,  but  my  mind  was  intent  upon  the 
meeting.  I  was  hasting  to  forget  the  vulgar  scenes 
of  savage  life  in  the  solemn  services  of  our  Im- 
manuel.  I  was  prepared  to  admire  the  illuminated 
ground,  the  multitude  of  worshippers,  the  order  of 
the  encampment,  when,  at  8  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
I  reached  this  happy  place.  *  Blessed  is  the  nation 
whose  God  is  the  Lord !'    Blessed  be  God  who  hath 


THE,  MISSION    BEGUN.  243 


Diade  us  eucli  a  nation !  Here  are  they  who  love 
and  serve  the  Saviour.  Hero  the  hard  heart  is 
broken,  and  the  penitent  rejoice.  The  Church  ex- 
ults in  Christ — Christ  owns  the  Church.  I  too  will 
rejoice  in  this  great  mercy.  When  shall  all  flesh 
see  the  salvation  of  God?  When  shall  the  now 
inxbruted  Indian  '  call  Jesus  Lord  by  the  Holy 
Ghost  ?'  Christians,  by  all  the  blessings  you  enjoy, 
charge  yourselves  to  pray  and  care  for  these." 

In  the  course  of  the  next  year,  mission  premises 
were  erected  one  mile  west  of  the  Chattahoochee, 
not  far  from  Coweta.  The  station  was  named 
after  the  venerable  Asbury,  and  was  served  by  the 
Rev.  Isaac  Smith,  the  appointment  of  Mr.  Capers 
as  superintendent  being  continued.  Opposition, 
however,  soon  showed  itself.  One  of  the  chiefs, 
Big  Warrior,  openly  avowed  himself  hostile  to  the 
work  of  preaching  the  gospel  among  the  Indians. 
Some  degraded  white  men,  who  lived  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  nation,  in  the  "back-water"  of  the 
stream  of  civilization,  encouraged  this  opposition. 
The  agent  had  little  use  for  preachers,  though  he 
did  not  so  far  violate  the  instructions  of  the  Secre- 
tary of  War  as  to  oppose  the  school  project.  In 
the  face  of  these  discouragements  Mr.  Smith  opened 
a  school  consisting  of  twelve  Indian  children.  The 
number  doubled  itself  in  a  week.  And  during  the 
five  or  six  years  of  its  continuance,  until  the  re- 
moval of  the  Creeks  beyond  the  Mississippi,  the 
mission  school  varied  from  thirty-five  to  fifty 
scholars  in  regular  attendance.    The  progress  of 


244 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


the  children  in  learning  was  satisfactory,  although 
the  Creek  nation  was  considered  inferior  in  intel- 
ligence to  their  neighbors,  the  Cherokees.  There  is 
preseiwed  in  the  museum  of  WofFord  College  a 
memento  of  the  capabilities  of  the  Indian  boys. 
It  is  a  copy,  in  Roman  letters,  of  one  of  the  Meth- 
odist hymns,  commencing : 

"Come,  thou  Omniscient  Son  of  man," 

which  was  made  in  the  presence  of  Mr.  Smith,  by 
ap  Indian  lad,  nearly  grown  up,  who  came  in  1822 
to  the  mission  school,  and  requested  to  be  taken  as 
a  scholar.  The  school  was  pretty  fullj  and  the  mis- 
sionaries did  not  prefer  to  take  so  large  a  pupil. 
To  make  a  favorable  impression  of  his  abilities,  he 
went  to  a  desk  and  copied,  without  knowing  a 
letter,  the  hymn  aforementioned.  The  specimen 
of  native  genius  thus  executed  is  highly  creditable, 
and  the  boy  was  admitted. 

The  United  States  Government,  wisely,  and  in 
accordance  with  the  wishes  of  the  great  body  of  the 
American  people,  made,  at  that  period  of  the  his- 
tory of  Indian  affairs,  an  annual  appropriation  of 
ten  thousand  dollars,  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  in 
th^  civilization  of  the  Indian  tribes.  In  1824  ap- 
propriations were  made  to  twenty  educational 
establishments,  principally  Presbyterian  and  Bap- 
tist, set  on  foot  for  the  improvement  of  the  In- 
dians ;  among  these  there  was  one  of  five  hundred 
dollars  made  to  the  Mission  Committee  of  the 
Ohio  Conference,  in  behalf  of  the  mission  school 


AT  MILLEBGEVILLE. 


245 


among  the  Wyandots.  From  first  to  last,  tbe  As- 
.  bury  mission  school  among  the  Creeks  received  not 
a  dollar  of  the  government  appropriations.  The 
whole  burden  of  sustaining  it  was  met  by  voluntary 
contributions  within  the  limits  of  the  South  Caro- 
lina Conference — then  embracing  Georgia.  Mr. 
Capers  gave  his.  full  strength  and  time,  during  1821 
and  1822,  to  the  task  of  soliciting  these  contri- 
butions. A  gratifying  success  attended  his  efibrts, 
though  they  involved  protracted  abs^ences  from  his 
family,  and  much  fatigue  and  exposure  in  horse- 
back travelling,  and  no  small  amount  of  preaching. 
His  noble  devotion  to  the  cause  of  missions,  illus- 
trated by  the  whole  course  of  his  life,  has  left  its 
impress  on  the  Conference  of  which  he  was  a 
distinguished  member.  Several  of  the  sermons 
preached  by  him  in  the  course  of  these  two  years, 
were  regarded  at  the  time  as  among  the  most 
powerful  efforts  of  the  American  pulpit. 

During  the  two  following,  years-,  Mr.  Capers  was 
stationed  at  Milledgeville,  Georgia,  and  continued 
Superintendent  of  the  Asbury  Mission.  His  family 
had  spent  the  former  part  of  1822  in  Sumter  Dis- 
trict, South  Carolina,  at  the  residence  of  the  Rev. 
T.  D.  Glenn,  a  brother-in-law ;  and  the  latter  part 
of  the  year  in  thq  hospitable  mansion  of  his  early 
and  long-continued  friend,  John  H.  Mann,  Esq., 
of  Augusta,  Georgia.  At  Milledgeville  there  was 
no  parsonage ;  but  Governor  Clark,  whose  wife  was 
a  Methodist  lady,  having  moved  to  a  summer 
retreat  at  Scottsboro',  a  short  distance  from  Mil- 


246  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

ledgeville,  his  residence,  handsomely  furnished, 
was  kindly  put  at  the  disposal  of  the  stewards  for 
Mr,  Capers's  purposes.  In  the  course  of  the  year 
a  parsonage  was  built  and  well  furnished,  and  Mr. 
Capers  moved  into  it  in  1824.  The  location  proved 
to  be  unhealthy,  and  the  children  were  sick  with 
bilious  fever.  On  the  15th  October,  his  little 
daughter,  Esther  Anslie,  died.  .His  daughter 
Susan  was  so  ill  that  all  hope  of  her  recovery  was 
given  up.  On  Sunday  morning,  the  Methodist 
church,  being  the  only  one  open  at  that  time,  was 
crowded.  As  the  time  for  Divine  service  approach- 
ed, *a  painful  conflict  arose  in  Mr.  Capers's  mind, 
between  the  sense  of  duty  to  a  large  congregation, 
and  the  distressing  apprehensions  of  a  father's  feel- 
ings that  his  child  would  die  while  he  was  absent. 
His  hesitation  was  only  for  a  moment.  Kneeling 
by  her  bed  he  committed  her  case  to  God,  took 
leave  of  her,  and  went  to  the  church.  Just  then, 
the  family  physician.  Dr.  Williamson,  came  in, 
and  after  administering  some  medicine,  had  the 
pleasure  to  witness  a  speedy  change  for  the  better 
in  the  sick  child.  The  Doctor  told  Mrs.  Capers 
that  he  would  relieve  Mr.  Capers's  mind  by  an- 
nouncing the  change  to  him  ;  and  accordingly  went 
into  the  church,  and  quietly  approaching  the  pulpit, 
interrupted  the  sermon  for  a  moment  by  whisper- 
ing the  pleasing  intelligence.  The  painful  emo- 
tion of  the  audience,  all  of  whom  knew  the  fact  of 
the  child's-  extreme  illness,  was  immediately  re- 
lieved by  a  brief  announcement  of  the  news  brought 


AT    MILLEDGE VILLE. 


247 


him  by  the  physician.  He  resumed  his  sermon 
with  a  deepened  throb  of  gratitude  to  God,  and 
with  powerful  effect  upon  the  listeners.  He  preach- 
ed again,  in  the  afternoon,  and  at  night ;  and  the 
pulpit  ministration^  of  that  day,  which  had  risen 
in  such  gloom  over  the  pastor's  family,  were  me- 
morable as  the  means  of  conversion  to  several 
persons,  and  of  great  spiritual  good  to  many 
others. 

During  most  of  the  time  his  Sunday's  work  was 
a  sunrise  sermon  at  the  Penitentiary,  and  three 
services  at  his  own  church,  besides  administering 
catechetical  instruction  to  the  children,  in  the  in- 
tervals of  public  worship.  God  was  with  him,  and 
made  his  labors  a  blessing  to  many  souls.  He 
enjoyed  the  respect  and  confidence  of  the  com- 
munity, and  left  the  people  of  his  charge  with  deep 
and  mutual  regrets  at  parting.  He  had  attended, 
in  May,  the  session  of  the  General  Conference  held 
at  Baltimore,  as  one  of  the  delegates  of  the  South 
Carolina  Conference. 


248 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

Stationed  in  Charleston — Editor  of  the  Wesleyan  Journal — Appointed 
Presiding  Elder— Defence  of  Bishop  Soule's  Sermon — Elected  De- 
legate to  the  British  Conference. 

From  Milledgeville  Mr.  Capers  was  removed  to 
Charleston,  South  Carolina.  In  this  station  there 
were  three  churches  of  respectable  size,  and  a 
small  chapel  in  the  suburbs — all  united  in  one  pas- 
toral charge,  which  was  placed  in  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Capers.  The  South  Carolina  Conference  at  that 
time  extended  from  the  Cape  Fear  river  to  Ala- 
bama. This  large  field  was  divided  into  eight 
Presiding  Elders'  Districts,  and  embraced  a  mem- 
bership, white  and  colored,  of  forty-two  thousand. 
In  the  city  of  Charleston,  there  were  in  the  com- 
munion of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  four 
hundred  and  thirty-one  whites,  and  two  thousand 
seven  hundred  and  forty-seven  colored.  The  col- 
leagues of  Mr.  Capers  were  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Manly, 
Hoskins,  and  Clin.  The  health  of  Mr.  Clin  was 
bad,  and  he  was  able  to  do  no  pastoral  work ;  in- 
deed, it  was  only  with  the  hope  that  he  might  have 
sufficient  strength  to  edit  the  Wesleyan  Journal, 
that  he  had  been  again  stationed  in  Charleston 
after  the  failure  of  his  health  during  the  year  pre- 


THE    WESLEYAN    JOURNAL.  249 

ceding.  The  labors  of  a  preacher  in  charge  in 
Charleston  prior  to  the  separation  of  the  charges, 
were  severe  indeed.  He  was  liable  to  be  called 
upon  at  every  hour  of  the  day ;  every  evening  was 
occupied  with  an  official  meeting  or  in  public  wor- 
ship ;  and  besides  three  &ei;inons  on  Sunday,  he  had 
on  his  hands  the  administration  of  the  afiairs  of  a 
society  numbering  upwards  of  three  thausand 
souls.  All  this  was  enough  to  tax  to  the  utmost 
the  capabilities,  mental  and  physical,  of  any  man. 
The  parsonage-house  was  a  small  wooden  building, 
erected  in  the  time  of  Bishop  Asbury,  terribly  hot 
in  summer,  and  with  few  conveniences  in  its  fix- 
tiires.  Mr.  Capers  occupied  this  house  two  years, 
preaching  regularly  three  times  on  Sunday,  and 
discharging  the  other  duties  of  his  office. 

On  the  1st  of  October,  1825,  the  Wesleyan  Journal 
niade  its  debut.  It  was  the  second  Methodist  paper 
published  in  the  United  States.  It  had  been  pro- 
jected by  Mr.  Olin,  and  adopted  by  the  Conference, 
which  made  provisional  arrangements  for  its  pub- 
lication under  the  editorial  supervision  of  Mr. 
Capers,  in  case  Mr.  Olin's  health  did  not  permit 
him  to  undertake  its  management.  As  there  was 
no  prospect  that  Mr.  Olin's  services  could  be  put 
in  requisition,  the  Journal  was  brought  out,  at  the 
date  aforementioned,  by  Mr.  Capers.  In  making  his 
editorial  salutations  to  the  patrons  of  the  Wesleyan 
Journal,  Mr.  Capers  said :  "  We  feel  the  want  of 
Mr.  Olin  keenly,  but  we  cannot  shrink  from  the 
performance  of  a  duty  which,  without  our  choice, 


250 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


is  thus  providentially  cast  upon  us.  We  use  no 
disguise.  The  Weslevan  Journal,  in  our  hands, 
cannot  and  will  not  pretend  to  learning.  We  con- 
fess we  know  not  how  to  gauge  the  ancients ;  nor 
can  we  fix  the  measure  of  the  moderns.  We  pro- 
fess, however,  to  have  ^  measured  ourselves.  We 
have  been  schooled  in  common  life,  and  claim  the 
advantage  of  common  sense ;  and  without  affecting 
what  transcends  our  stature,  we  will  use  our  mid- 
dling, common-sense  ability,  to  as  great  advantage 
as  we  can.  We  honor  learning,  and  suppose  we 
can  distinguish  her  fine  gold  from  tinsel  pedantry. 
We  admire  wit  and  genius;  but  there  is  a  little 
limping,  waggish  fellow,  whom  we  will  not  know* 
We  labor  to  promote  the  interests  of  religion,  and 
we  wish  to  do  it  as  religious  men.  We  will  '  fol- 
low after  things  which  make  for  peace,  and  things 
wherewith  one  may  edify  another.'  " 

It  is  matter  of  surprise  that  Mr.  Capers  should 
have  consented  to  assume,  in  addition  to  pastoral  and 
pulpit  labors  already  taxing  his  full  strength,  the 
responsibilities  and  cares  peculiar  to  the  editor's 
chair.  Especially,  with  a  quick  sensibility,  a  ner- 
vous temperament,  keen  to  feel  the  sting  of  a 
thousand  petty  annoyances  which  bristle  around 
.the  tripod ;  witb  a  training  that  went  altogether  in 
the  direction  of  extemporaneous  address,  and  not 
exercised  in  written  composition ;  with  meagre  re- 
sources in  the  way  of  exchanges  ;  with  no  corps  of 
pledged  or  paid  correspondents  ; — that,  in  spite  of 
all  these  embarrassments,  he  should  have  cheer- 


CHRISTIAN  A*DVOCATE  AND  JOURNAL.  251 


fully  accepted  the  task  put  upon  him  by  his  breth- 
ren, is  a  high  proof  of  unselfish  devotion  to  the' 
interests  of  the  Church.  The  J ournal,  in  his  hands, 
.exhibited  a  steady  loyalty  to  the  central  truths  of 
Christianity ;  his  selections  were  mainly  from  the 
wi'itings  of  Wesley  and  Fletcher,  lacking  variety 
perhaps,  and  of  a  cast  somewhat  too  didactic,  but 
meant  chiefly  for  religious  edification ;  and  his  edi- 
torials were  brief,  but  bold  to  censure  what  he 
deemed  worthy  of  rebuke. 

In  September  of  the  following  year,  the  Chris- 
tian Advocate  was  issued  from  the  Book  Room, 
at  Kew  York,  under  the  editorship  of  Mr.  Badger, 
who  had  relinquished  the  editorial  management  of  -  • 
Zion's  Herald  in  Boston,  the  first  Methodist  paper 
published  in  this  country.  At  the  session  of  the 
South  Carolina  Conference,  at  the  close  of  1826, 
resolutions  were  adopted,  instructing  the  Publish- 
ing Committee  of  the  Wesleyan  Journal  to  nego- 
tiate with  the  Book  Agents  at  IsTew  York  for  a  union 
of  the  two  papers.  The  reasons  alleged  for  this 
course,  were,  1st.  The  desirableness  of  patronizing 
a  paper  the  profits  of  which  were  distributed 
equally  among  all  the  Annual  Conferences  of  the 
Connection ;  2d.-  The  general  desire  for  a  Connec- 
tional  paper ;  and  3d.  An  apprehension  of  damage 
from  the  multiplication  of  local  presses.  Accord- 
ingly, arrangements  were  made  by  which  the  ' 
Wesleyan  Journal  was  merged  in  the  Christian 
Advocate,  which  thence  bore  the  title,  "  Christian 
Advocate  and  Journal." 


252  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  -CAPERS. 

Mr.  Capers  maintained  throughout  the  two  years 
his  position  as  an  able,  eloquent,  and  popular 
preacher ;  though  he  was  able  to  visit  his  flock  but 
little.  The  four  years  succeeding  were  spent  on, 
the  Charleston  District,  in  the  office  of  Presiding 
Elder.  Eemoving  his  family  to  a  residence  in 
Coming  street,  he  entered  with,  fine  spirits  upon' 
the  duties  of  his  new  office.  The  district  over 
which  he  presided  embraced  the  scope  of  country 
lying  between  Santee  and  Savannah  rivers,  and  ex- 
tending from  Charleston  to  the  neighborhood  of 
Columbia.  He  had  been  relieved  from  the  confine- 
ment and  worry  of  editing  the  Journal,  and  was 
«  allowed  to  breathe  free  amidst  the  solitudes  of  the 
grand  old  w^oods.  The  affiiirs  of  the  district  were 
administered  with  the  punctuality  and  abilit^^  which 
belonged  to  his  character;  and  his  preaching  at- 
tracted large  crowds  at  his  Quarterly  Meetings. 
In  the  spring  of  1827,  at  a  camp-meeting  held  some 
twelve  or  fourteen  miles  above  Charleston,  he 
preached  a  most  masterly  and  impressive  sermon, 
on  the  text,  "  Go  and  show  J ohn  again  those  things 
which  ye  do  hear  and  see,"  etc.  His  main  posi- 
tions were,  that  Christianity  furnishes  in  its  gra- 
cious provisions  a  divine  power  to  meet  the  moral 
necessities  of  human  nature ;  and  that  in  the  appli- 
cation and  realization  of  this  power,  stands  an  irre- 
fragable evidence,  to  the  renewed  soul,  of  the 
divinity  and  truth  of  the  gospel.  He  went  into  no 
deep  and  curious  speculation  in  regard  to  the  modus 
of  that  spiritual  influence  of  which  he  was  discours- 


A    GREAT  SERMON. 


253 


ing;  nor  did  he  seek  to  settle  with  metaphysical 
acuteuess  the  precise  border  lines  between  this 
mighty  and  mysterious  power,  and  the  moral 
agency  over  which  it  is  never  wont  to  break  with 
irresistible  flow  of  energy.  But  grouping  together 
the  undeniable  facts  of  human  nature  in  its  rela- 
tions to  God,  moral  government,  and  the  eternal 
state — its  blindness,  callousness,  alienation ;  its 
profound  torpor,  on  its  religious  side,  contrasted 
with  its  vigor,  vivacity,  and  depth  of  susceptibilit}'- 
on  its  earthly  side — he  made  out  the  case  of  man's 
spiritual  necessities  and  moral  predicament,  with  a 
compactness  of  thought  and  a  fervor  of  soul  which 
poured  itself  forth  in  the  most  graphic,  fresh,  and 
telling  illustrations.  Having  clearly  delineated  the 
necessities  which  occasioned  the  Divine  mercy  in 
redemption  by  Jesus  Christ,  he  went  on  to  show 
how  precisely  the  elements  entering  into  the  scheme, 
of  recovery  met  the  wants  of  man.  As  he  set 
forth  the  "Spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus,"  as  the 
great  healing,  saving  jjower,  he  rose  into  a  strain  of 
eloquent  speech,  which  stirred  the  blood  as  with  a 
clarion's  notes.  At  his  master-touch,  the  shams  of 
mere  ritualism,  the  plausibilities  of  a  so-called 
liberal  Christianity,  the  religionism  of  the  pic- 
turesque and  the  sentimental,  faded  into  thin  air. 
He  showed  how  utterly  insufficient  was  the  whole 
troop  of  them  to  meet  the  solemn  exigences  of  the 
case ;  and  how  above  them  all  towered  in  majestic 
grandeur  the  saving  power  of  the  gospel.  "Power, 
power!"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  voice,  at  its  full  thun- 


254 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


der,  rolling  flame-girt  words  over  the  assembled 
thousands  around  him:  ''you  offer  me  a  religion; 
I  dei^and,  can  it  open  the  blind  eyes  of  my  soul  to 
the  interests  of  my  eternity?  Can  it  invest  with 
reality  to  my  convictions  the  things  of  faith  ?  Can 
it  unstop  my  deaf  ears  to  the  voice  of  God  and 
duty?  Can  it  waft  the  spirit  of  health,  and  life, 
and  love,  to  my  disordered,  leprous  soul  ?  Can  it 
raise  me  from  the  death  of  sin  to  the  life  of  righte- 
ousness?" He  held  that  no  power  of  man,  or  of 
education,  of  outward  circumstances,  or  of  inward 
resolution,  could  avail.  Wliat  the  soul  wanted  and 
must  have,  was  just  what  Christ  and  the  gospel 
offered — Divine  ijower.  And  now,  as  nothing  but  a 
true  religion  could  bestow  such  an  investiture  of 
the  spirit,  so  the  realization  of  its  mighty  and 
saving  results  in  the  spiritual  nature  was',  in  turn, 
the  most  valid  and  effective  of  proofs  that  Christ  is 
the  Son  of  God,  and  his  gospel  the  word  of  truth 
as  well  as  of  salvation.  This  position  was  main- 
tained with  a  force  and  clearness  in  keeping  with 
the  former  part  of  the  sermon.  The  usual  fluency, 
elegance,  and  facility  of  the  preacher,  were  on  this 
occasion  merged  in  an  extraordinary  strength — 
even  vehemence,  which  ranked  the  sermon  among 
the  noblest  specimens  of  pulpit  oratory. 

At  the  session  of  the  South  Carolina  Conference 
held  in  Augusta,  January,  1827,  Bishop  Soule 
preached  a  masterly  sermon  on  the  "Perfect  Law 
of  Liberty."  By  a  resolution  moved  by  Mr.  Capers, 
and  seconded  by  Mr.,  now  Bishop,  Andrew,  the 


DEFENDS    BISHOP    SOULE.  255 

Conference  unanimously  and  earnestly  requested 
its  publication.  When  it  appeared  in  print,  it  was 
reviewed  in  a  series  of  articles  written  by  a  Presby- 
terian minister  of  some  pretensions,  and  published 
in  the  Charleston  Observer.  More  ado  was  made 
concerning  this  review  than  its  actual  merits  war- 
ranted. It  was  a  palpably  unfair  attempt  to  convict 
the  Bishop  of  heresy— of  holding  a  system  of  doc- 
trine "dangerously  and  ruinously  false!"  The 
gist  of  this  false  teaching  was  the  proposition  main- 
tained by  Bishop  Soule,  that  man,  being  redeemed 
by  the  death  of  Christ,  is  not  held  obliged  to  the 
performance  of  the  Adamic  law,-  as  a  condition  of 
life;  but  that  his  relations  to  God  are  so  far  affected 
by  the  covenant  of  grace  as  that,  instead  of  being 
under  the  original  law,  "Do  this  and  live,"  the  con- 
ditions are  now,  "Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
and  thou  shalt  be  saved."  This  sound  and  clearly 
defined  principle,  underlying  the  whole  scheme  of 
redemption  by  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  was  thought 
by  the  writer  in  the  Observer  to  be  equivalent  to 
the  proposition  that  "the  gospel  has  released  man 
from  all  obligation  to  speak  rightj  to  think  right, 
or  to  feel  right."  And  this  was  charged  on  the 
venerable  Bishop. 

Mr.  Capers  and  Mr.  Andrew,  under  their  proper 
Dames,  solicited,  as  an  act  of  justice,  the  privilege 
of  being  heard  in  vindication  of  the  Bishop's  ser- 
mon, in  the  paper  which  had  assailed  it ;  but  being 
refused,  they  published  a  pamphlet  containing  six 
letters  to  the  editor  of  the  Observer.    These  were 


256 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


written  by  Mr.  Capers.  They  were  sufficiently 
caustic.  He  was  not  given  to  dandling  on  the 
knees  of  loving  professions,  opponents  wliom  the 
defence  of  his  own  Church  called  him  to  withstand, 
point  to  point,  and  opinion  against  opinion.  In 
this  case,  the  absurdities  of  the  reviewer  might 
safely  have  been  left  to  find  their  way  into  a  speedy 
oblivion.  It  may  be  remarked,  however,  that  Mr. 
Capers,  though  quick  to  resent  what  he  conceived 
to  be  an  unjustifiable  attack  on  the  principles  of 
revealed  truth,  was  yet  far  removed  from  the  posi- 
tion of  a  controversialist  preacher.  He  agreed 
with  his  friend  Dr.  Olin,  in  the  conviction  that 
controversies  about  the  opinions  which  divide  the 
Christian  sects  that  preach  and  experience  salv^a- 
tion  by  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  and  through  the 
sanctification  of  the  Spirit,  are  apt  to  be  productive 
of  evil  rather  than  good ;  that  more  is  lost  to  kind 
and  Christian  feeling  than  is  gained  to  orthodoxy; 
and  that  when  differences  of  opinion  cannot  be 
settled  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  litigant  parties  by 
the  Bible  itself,  the  last  appeal,  it  is  not  wise  to 
excite  and  perpetuate  passions  which  are  fatal  to 
Christian  character,  with  the  uncertain  hope  of 
extirpating  errors  which  the  narrowest  charity  does 
not  regard  as  barriers  to  salvation.  And  there 
have  been  few  preachers  of  eminence  whose  min- 
istry was  more  catholic  in  its  tone  than  that  of  Dr. 
Capers,  or  embraced  a  larger  circle  of  admirers 
beyond  the  pale  of  their  own  denominations. 
In  the  autumn  of  1827,  the  family  of  Mr.  Capers 


GENERAL  C0NFERENC:E. 


25T 


w«re  yisited  by  yellow  fever.  He  was  very  ill  for 
several  weeks ;  his  brother  LeGrand,  and  his 
daughters  Anna  and  Susan,  being  attacked  at  the 
same  time.  Shortly  afterwards,  Mrs.  Capers  was, 
taken  down.  The  kindest  attentions  possible  were 
shown  the  afflicted  family.  Mrs.  J.  O.  Andrew 
took  the  youngest  child;  Dr.  Dickson,  the  family 
physician,  took  the  eldest  son,  Francis ;  both  of 
whom,  by  this  kind  intervention  of  attached  friends, 
esjcaped.  By  the  blessing  of  God,  all  who  had 
been  sick  recovered.  Mr.  Capers,  as  soon  as  his 
strength  allowed,  resumed  his  labors  on  the  dis- 
trict. 

In  May,  1828,  he  attended  the  session  of  the 
General  Conference,  held  at  Pittsburg.  On  the 
14th  of  May  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Capers  as  follows  : — 
"I  have  been  greatly . pressed  with  a  solicitation 
from  many  brethren  to  suffer  myself  to  be  con- 
sidered a  candidate  for  the  place  of  Agent  of  the 
Book  Concern,  insomuch  that  at  one  time  I  was  even 
induced  to  yield  a  reluctant  consent;  but  to-day 
I  have  strongly  declined  it,  and  think  that  I  shall 
be  able  with  a  good  conscience  to  avoid  the  nomi- 
nation, which  had  been  pretty  far  concluded.  The 
prospect,  however,  is  considerably  on  the  other 
side,  of  my  being  s^nt  as  the  Representative  of  the 
Church  in  Ameriqa  to  that  in  Great  Britain.  ISTo- 
thing  conclusive  has  transpired  on  this  subject,  but* 
you  know  the  grounds  on  which  I  should  ilot  be 
free  to  excuse  myself,  if  the  General  Conference 

elect  me.     Bishop  Hedding,  this  day,  took  an 
9  • 


258 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


opportunity  privately  to  explain  why  he  had  pre- 
ferred another;  and  was  pleased  to  say  that  it  was 
not  in  the  least  owing  to  any  want  of  respect  for  me, 
hut  only  because  he  thought  my  circumstances,  as 
the  owner  of  slaves,  would  render  my  appointment 
unpleasant  in  some  sections  where  there  exist 
strong  prejudices  on  the  subject  of  such  circum- 
stances. Even  if  the  General  Conference  should 
put  this  duty  upon  me,  I  suppose  I  may  be  able  to 
see  you  before  I  go  to  fulfil  it.  There  will  be  no 
new  Bishops  made  at  this  Conference.  We  move 
very  slowly  in  our  business,  owing  to  the  great 
number  of  members,  say,  one  hundred  and  seVenty- 
seven,  all  of  them  speakers  by  profession,  and 
many  very  fond  of  talking." 

-It  is  proper  to  state  that  the  General  Conference 
of  1824  had  instructed  the  Bishops  to  choose  and 
appoint  a  Eepresentative,  and  send  him  to  the 
British  Conference  in  1826.  A  meeting  of  the 
Bishops  had  been  held  at  Baltimore,  in  April,  1826, 
and  Bishops  McKendree  and  Soule  had  supported 
the  appointment  of  Mr.  Capers ;  Bishops  George 
and  Hedding  wished  Dr.  Fisk  appointed.  This 
difference  of  opinion  had  led  to  the  postponement 
of  the  election  until  the  meeting  of  the  General 
Conference,  when  the  subject  was  formally  brought 
up  in  the  address  of  the  Bishops. 
•  The  biographer  of  Bishop  Hedding  states,  that 
the  ground  of  his  objection  was  that  Mr;  Capers 
was  a  slaveholder.  He  adds  that  the  intelligent 
reader  will  infer  that  "the  aggressive  movements 


ELECTED    REPRESENTATIVE.  259 

of  slavery,  which  finally  led  to  the  disruption  of  the 
Cimrch,  were  not  wholly  without  Episcopal  sanc- 
tion, at  a  very  early  date."  While  it  may  require 
Isome  extraordinary  intelligence  to  peixeive  how 
slavery  was  making  any  movement  at  all,  we  are 
willing  to.  accept  the  fact  that  the  senior  Bishop  of 
the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  the  venerable 
McKendree,  with  his  able  and  far-sighted  colleague 
Bishop  Soule,  did  maintain  as  far  back  as  1826, 
the  equality  of  the  Southern  ministry  in  the  Con- 
nectional  union.  If  this  was  a  pro-slavery  move- 
ment, then  let  it  be  observed  that  the  General 
Conference  of  1828  endorsed  the  action  and  reasons 
of  the  two  Bishops  by  electing  a  slaveholder  as  their 
Representative.  The  ingenuity  of  Quarterly  Re- 
viewers can  readily  distort  this  fact  into  another 
proof  that  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  has 
always  been  abolitionist. 

On  May  17th,  Mr.  Capers  wrote  the  following 
brief  letter  to  his  wife : 

"I  have  been  this  day  elected  to  the  undesirable 
distinction  of  being  the  Representative  of  the 
American  Methodist  Church  to  that  of  Great 
Britain.  I  could  not  decline  being  a  candidate, 
for  reasons  which  you  know ;  and  besides  the  im- 
portant principle,  involving  the  interests  generally 
of  all  the  Southern  preachers,  I  could  not  decline 
because  of  the  unpleasant  dilemma  in  which  it 
would  have  placed  those  of  the  Bishops  who  had 
BO  perseveringly  maintained  my  nomination.  I 
still  hope,  but  cannot  even  now  be  certain,  that  I 


260 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPEES. 


may  see  you  before  I  go  to  England.  If  prae* 
ticable,  you  may  be  sure  I  will  go  to  Charleston 
before  I  set  out  for  Liverpool ;  and  if  so,  I  shall  be 
in  haste,  and  will  probably  be  with  you  by  the  last 
of  the  first  week  in  June." 

On  the  19th  May,  he  says:  this  morning 
obtained  the  consent  of  the  General  Conference  to 
my  absence  during  the  remainder  of  its  session, 
with  a  view  to  my  being  enabled  to  go  to  Charles- 
ton. I  expect  to  take  the  stage  for  Baltimore  to- 
morrow night — no  stage  going  earlier;  will  pro- 
bably reach  there  on  the  night  of  the  23d  inst. ; 
and  mil  then  be  governed  by  circumstances  whether 
I  go  by  sea  or  land  to  Charleston.  Our  Conference 
has  been  more  harmonious  than  had  been  expected. 
"VYe  have  done  little  that  affects  the  rules  of  Dis- 
cipline ;  but  I  think  the  session  now  present  has 
done  much  of  great  importance  to  the  Church  in 
her  present  circumstances." 

After  spending  a  week  or  two  with  his  family,  he 
sailed  for  Xew  York,  where  he  arrived  on  the  18th 
June.  Here  he  met  Bishop  George,  obtained  his 
instructions,  and-  engaged  a  passage  to  Liverpool 
in  the  packet-ship  "  John  Jay."  Li  a  letter  to  Mrs. 
Capers,  he  says:  "I  have  received  the  kindest  at- 
tentions from  all  who  have  come  in  my  way.  Be 
not  jealous  of  me  for  saying  this.  My  home  is 
in  Charleston  still.  Mv  children  are  there ;  and 
above  every  thing  and  everybody  else,  my  wife  is 
there.  I  wish  I  could  give  you  but  one  more  kiss 
before  I  leave  my  country  for  a  foreign  land.  I 


CORRESPONDENCE. 


261 


now  can  only  tell  you  so ;  and  to-morrow  I  shall 
not  have  the  liherty  of  even  so  much  as  this.  But 
don't  mind  it.  Remember  your  confidence  in 
prayer,  and  know  that  even  here,  where  I  am  a 
stranger,  there  are  many  and  mighty  prayers  put 
up  for  me.  I  wish  you  could  have  heard,  last  night, 
how  brother  Waugh,  concluding  the  service  after  I 
had  preached,  prayed  for  me,  and  for  you,  and  our 
dear  children  also  ;  and  how  many  loud  aniens  rung 
through  the  church.  I  had  a  blessed  day  yester- 
day— Sunday  the  22d.  My  mouth  was  opened, 
and  my  heart  enlarged,  and  the  large  congregations 
seemed  to  feel  pretty  generally  a  correspondent  in- 
terest in  the  services.  As  I  said  before,  so  let  me 
repeat":  we  know  not  what  the  Divine  will  may  be ; 
but  let  us  lose  ourselves  in  God,  and  we  shall  in- 
fallibly come  out  on  the  right  and  best  side.  If 
we  fully  purpose  in  our  hearts  that  *  whether  we 
live,  we  liye  unto  the  Lord,  or  whether  we  die,  we 
die  unto  the  Lord,'  he  will  take  care,  our  conduct 
being  consistent,  that  'we  live  and  die  the  Lord's.' 
!N"o  accident,  no  danger,  no  enemies,  can  have 
power  over  us ;  but  in  all  places  and  at  all  times, 
we  shall  be  safe  with  Him. 

*  Jesus  protects :  my  fears,  begone ! 
"What  can  the  Rock  of  Ages  move  ? 
Safe  in  thy  arms  I  lay  me  down, 
Thy  everlasting  arms  of  love.' 

Only  think,  my  dear,  that  the  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth  should  have  come  down  to  us  in  the  form  of 
our  species,  and  walked  upon  the  water,  to  teach 


262  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

US  not  to  fear !  He  who  made  the  winds  and  seas, 
will  in  answer  to  the  prayers  of  his  people,  and  for 
his  mercy's  sake,  be  everywhere  present  along  the 
whole  course  of  our  ship  over  the  ocean,  from  Xew 
York  to  Liverpool,  and  back  again  to  Charleston. 
He  made  the  elements,  and  he  controls  them. 
And  even  if  it  should  seem  good  to  him  to  stop  our 
progress,  and  bring  us  back  no  more,  still  you  may 
not  say  we  were  lost  at  sea— none  can  be  lost  in 
God's  hands.  We  are  all  mortal,  and  we  all  must 
die.  But  with  respect  to  myself,  surely  the  ap- 
parent danger  of  death  is  much  greater  in  the 
usual  course  of  duty  on  the  Charleston  District, 
than  on  the  ocean.  I  feel  a  great  desire,  an  earnest 
longing,  to  be  more  fully  given  up  to  God,  and  to 
be  filled  with  the  Spirit.  Pray  that  I  may  be 
brought  into  a  state  of  deep  and  uninterrupted 
communion  with  him.  It  is  no  easy  matter  for  one 
in  so  elevated  and  responsible  a  station  as  I  am 
now  to  sustain  for  a  little  while,  and  in  such  cir- 
cumstances as  I-  shall  be  put  into  on  board  ship 
and  in  England,  to  acquit  himseif  acceptably  and  to 
the  profit  of  the  Church.  Most  truly  I  feel  that  I 
am  not  sufiicient  for  these  things ;  but  blessed  be 
God,  there  is  ample  sufficiency  even  for  me,  in 
Christ  Jesus  my  Lord.  To  him,  and  him  alone,  I 
would  look  for  aid,  and  depend  on  him  with  con- 
fidence for  support.  Bishop  Hedding  has  just 
come  in  to  take  tea  with  me.  The  Bishop  has  put 
up  another  heavenly  prayer  for  us  by  name.  What 
a  privilege  this  is  ! — that  even  we  are  borne  on  the 


CORRESPONDENCE. 


263 


hearts  of  so  many  before  God,  is  surely  cause  for 
thanksgiving.  Perhaps  a  thousand  faithful  prayers, 
or  thousands  of  them,  have  been  offered  up,  and 
will  be  offered  up^  for  us  and  our  children,  which 
we  never  should  have  had  but  for  the  cross  which 
is  now  laid  upon  us.  May  God  hear  and  answer 
them  for  his  name's  sake." 


264 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Embarks  in  the  "Joliii  Jay" — Voyage — Reception  in  England — • 
Estimate  of  the  leading  Wesleyan  preachers — Resolutions  of  the 
British  Conference  in  acknowledgment  of  the  visit  of  the  Ameri- 
can Representative — Visits  Dr.  A.  Clarke  at  Haydon  Hall — Re- 
turn voyage. 

Mr.  Capers  embarked,  June  24th,  on  the  John 
Jay,  one  of  the  Liverpool  "liners."  In  the  har- 
bor off  the  lighthouse,  he  wrote  to  his  wife  the 
following  letter : 

"I  came  down  to  the  Battery  this  morning,  at  a 
quarter  before  ten  o'clock,  and  found  Bishops 
George  and  Hedding  there,  with  a  number  of  the 
brethren ;  among  whom  were  Dr.  Emory,  brother 
Matthias,  Captain  Wood,  brother  Dando,  etc.,  all 
waiting  to  take  leave  of  me,  and  look  after  me,  as 
I  should  depart  for  the  ship.  I  ought  to  have  par- 
ticularly mentioned  brother  Francis  Hall,  a  distin- 
guished member  of  the  Church  in  ITew  York,  his 
wife,  and  his  son  and  wife,  among  the  number  of 
those  who  put  themselves  to  the  trouble  of  a  long 
walk  to  show  this  delicate  mark  of  respect  and  love 
to  the  Kepresentative  of  their  Church — ^poor  un- 
worthy me  !  Brother  Hall  has  even  come  on  board 
the  ship,  and  is  going  out  to  sea,  to  return  with  the 


FAREWELL  LETTER. 


265 


pilot,  to  have,  he  says,  the  last  of  my  presence  in 
the  port.  By  him  I  have  an  opportunity  of  send- 
ing this  to  you.  Several  of  the  preachers  came 
down  to  the  ship  \vith  me,  in  the  steamboat  from 
the  city  to  the  quarantine  ground,  and  returned  by 
the  same  conveyance.  "Well,  I  am  now  actually  off 
for  Liverpool.  Wife  and  children,  friends  and  coun- 
try are  behind  me.  God  is  with  me ;  and  with  him 
I  miist  do  well.  The  number  of  passengers  is  but 
twelve,  and  there  are  but  two  ladies.  The  captain 
has  given  me  a  proof  of  his  kind  regards,  exchang- 
ing my  state-room  for  one  in  the  ladies'  cabin. 
Here,  in  the  best  part  of  the  ship,  I  have  a  splendid 
little  room  to  myself,  large  enough  for  my  baggage, 
a  table,  and  a  chair,  where  I  may  be  as  private  as 
I  please.  This  letter  is  written  in  it,  and  the 
writing  of  it  is  my  first  employment  on  board  ship. 
Farewell,  my  dear,  dear  wife ;  keep  your  heart  from 
fear  and  trouble.  Expect  me  at  home  again,  safe 
and  happy." 

This  farewell  letter  was  forwarded  by  Mr. 
Hall. 

His  next  letter  to  Mrs.  Capers  was  dated  off 
Dungaroon,  on  the  coast  of  Ireland,  July  15 : 

"A  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  ocean  could  scarce- 
ly be  made  with  more  comfort  and  satisfaction 
than  I  have  experienced  on  the  present  one.  .We 
have  not  had  an  hour's  head-wind  since  we  set  sail 
at  JSTew  York ;  and  for  a  fortnight  the  weather  was 
so  smooth  that  a  common  six-oared  boat  might  have 
been  perfectly  safe  on  the  roughest  water  we  expe- 


266 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


rienced.  The  last  six  days  have  given  us  a  rapid 
run,  averaging  nearly  or  quite  two  hundred  miles  a 
day;  and  this  morning,  at  about  5  o'clock,  we  came 
up  to  the  coast  of  Ireland.  We  have  been  all  day 
gliding  smoothly,  with  light  winds,  along  her  beau- 
tiful shores,  within  full  sight  of  lighthouses,  forts, 
towers,  towns,  villages,  mansions,  and  fields  of 
lovely  green,  bordered  out  with  their  fences  of 
hawthorn j  like  a  vast  garden  covering  all  the 
country.  To-morrow  will  make  three  weeks  since 
I  left  JSTew  York,  and  behold  I  am  actually  here 
already  !  I  know  that  it  is  Ireland  that  I  am  be- 
holding, and  still  I  cannot  realize  that  I  am  three 
thousand  miles  from  home.  My  voyage  seems  a 
dream. 

"Wednesday  night,  July  16. — .We  are  now 
going  over  on  the  English  side  of  the  St.  George's 
or  Irish  channel,  and  expect  to  see  the  coast  of 
England  as  early  as  it  is  light  in  the  morning.  The 
coast  of  Ireland,  along  which  we  were  sailing  yes- 
terday, and  until  3  o'clock  to-day,  is  beautiful  be- 
yond any  thing  you  ever  saw.  Believe  me,  I  felt 
every  hour  a  tender  sense  of  interest  in  it  that  I 
never  knew  before,  because  of  its  being  the  land 
of  your  forefathers. 

"  Liverpool,  July  17.  —  During  the  night  we 
crossed  the  channel,  and  this  morning  at  5  o'clock 
were  in  view  of  the  isle  of  Anglesea.  I  was  for- 
tunate in  having  a  fair,  fine  day  to  come  into  Liver- 
pool, and  I  improved  it  as  well  as  I  could  to  view 
the  coast  from  the  north-western  extremity  of 


ARRIVAL   AT  LIVERPOOL. 


26T 


Wales  to  this  far-famed  commercial  emporium. 
Wales  is  nothing  to  compare  to  Ireland  for  beauty 
along  this  shore.  It  generally  presents  rugged  and 
bare  old  fields  covered  over  with  rocks ;  and  it  is  only 
in  detached  places  that  a  few  beautiful  farms,  clus- 
tered on  a  better  soil,  show  a  highly  cultivated  as 
well  as  a  very  old  country.  You  never  see  wood- 
land, either  here  or  on  the  coast  of  Ireland,  except 
it  be  attached  to  some  lordly  estate  as  a  pleasure- 
ground  or  park.  I  really  thought,  when  I  looked 
with  enthusiasm  upon  the  beautiful  shores  of 
Ireland,  that  I  could  scarcely  find  it  equalled  in 
England ;  but  the  scenery  along  the  shore  of  the 
country  from  the  river  Dee  to-  this  place,  and  par- 
ticularly that  which  lies  -on  the  Liverpool  side  of 
the  river  Mersey,  is  beautiful  beyond  Ireland,  and 
beyond  any  idea  that  I  could  give  you  of  it.  We 
arrived  at  the  dock  in  Liverpool  at  half-past  one 
o'clock  to-day,  having  made  our  passage  in  twenty- 
two  and  a  half  days  from  'New  York.  We  found 
that  the  ship  Helen  Mar,  the  Majestic,  the  Olive 
and  Eliza,  and  the  General  Brown,  from  Charles- 
ton, had  arrived  here  before  us ;  and  this  deter- 
mines me  to  return  direct  to  Charleston,  if  I  can 
find  a  good  ship,  on  my  way  home.  I  must  here, 
in  gratitude  and  duty,  set  down  the  kind,  friendly, 
and  obliging  attentions  which  I  have  received  from 
Captain  Holdrege.  On  all  the  voyage  he  was  every 
way  a  friend;  and  his  attentions  since  we  came 
into  port  have  been  even  more  obliging,  if  possible, 
than  on  board  his  ship.    I  think  I  said  something 


268 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


about  the  ship  before  I  left  l^ew  York.  I  need  add 
no  more  than  just  this :  that  a  better  vessel,  or  a 
finer  one,  I  never  expect  to  sail  in.  Our  fare  on 
the  passage  was  equal  to  the  elegant  and  splendid 
style  of  the  ship;  We  had  bread  baked  on  board 
every  day,  and  that  which  was  excellent ;  our  din- 
ner always  consisted  of  several  courses  of  meats, 
served  in  the  handsomest  manner,  desserts  of  vari- 
ous kinds,  and  even  fruits  and  nuts.  'Cider  (just 
such  as  I  was  dreaming  of  in  the  yellow  fever)  that 
sparkled  like  champagne,  various  French-  and 
other  wines,  porter,  etc.,  were  at  all  hours  as  readi- 
ly at  command  as  water.  Indeed,  there  was  every 
thing  that  I  could  wish,  and  very  much  more.  I 
have  not  yet  delivered  my  letters  of  introduction, 
having  put  up  for  a  time  under  the  wing  of  Captain 
Holdrege,  and  in  company  with  several  of  my  fel- 
low-passengers, whose  society  has  been  one  of  the 
pleasantest  accompaniments  of  one  of  the  pleas- 
antest  voyages  that  could  have  been  made  by  me 
going  so  far  from  home. 

"Liverpool,  July  19. — Mr.  Kewton  was  most  of 
the  day  yesterday  walking  with  me.  I  had  stopped 
at  the  Star  and  Garter  Hotel  until  I  should  get 
clear  of  the  custom-house,  before  introducing  my- 
'  self  to  any  one  here.  He  was  the  first  of  our 
brethren  whom  I  saw,  and  immediately  joined  him- 
self with  me  for  the  day,  taking  a  great  deal  of 
fatigue,  with  the  kindest  possible  dispositions  to 
show  me  honor  and  to  serve  me.  He  would  be 
with  me  at  the  dock,  at  the  custom-house ;  secured 


ATTENTIONS    IN    LIVERPOOL.  269 

me  splendid  accommodations,  and  dined  with  me, 
at  the  dwelling/of  Mr.  Sands,  (a  wealthy  and  very 
respectable  merchant;)  procured  such  pecuniary 
accommodations  as  I  wanted,  and,  indeed,  put  himr- 
self,  and  would  put  himself,  to  a  deal  of  trouble  for 
me.  During  the  day  and  evening  I  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  the  company  of  several  of  the  preachers. 
This  morning  I  would  attend  the  preachers'  weekly 
meeting,  but  business  and  company  yesterday  and 
last  night  hindered  me  from  writings  and  I  must 
be  in  time  with  this  for  the  earliest  ship,  so  I  give 
myself  to  my  dear,  dear  wife.  I  could  tell  you 
a  thousand  things,  and  will  when  I  get  home 
again.  I  am  as  happy  as  the  richest  and  kindest 
accommodations,  and  the  most  tender,  respectful 
attentions  can  make  me,  so  far  from  home.  But 
what  would  I  give  just  that  you  might  know  that 
I  am  here  in  safety !  What  would  I  give  to  be 
again  at  my  own  plain  home,  with  my  business 
here  accomplished !  I  must  not  indulge  in  this. 
I  know  that  you  are  anxious,  and,  perhaps,  even 
fearful.  Let  us  trust  in  God,  and  we  shall  yet 
praise  him  again. 

"You  see  I  have  been  writing  to  you  ever  since  the 
15th.  I  hoped  then  I  might  find  an  earlier  oppor- 
tunity. This  is  Saturday  the  19th.  On  Monday  I 
will  set  out  with  Mr.  ITewton  and  Mr.  Tobias  for 
London." 

On  Sunday  he  preached  for  the  Eev.  Eobert 
I^ewton  in  the  mcwning,  and-  in  the  afternoon  for 
the  Eev.  Mr.  Scott.    In  regard  to  his  sermons  he 


270  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

says  :  "I  was  much  confused  in  the  morning,  but 
less  so  in  the  afternoon.  On  the  whole,  I  feel  rather 
more  courage  and  composure  than  I  expected  I 
should,  and  encourage  myself  to  believe  that  I 
shall  do  better  as  I  get  more  used  to  my  new  cir- 
cumstances. In  private  and  social  intercourse  I 
wa«  never  in  my  life  more  free,  easy,  and  ready." 
His  next  letter  is  dated  London,  July  24th : 
"  I  left  Liverpool  in  company  with  Messrs.  ISTew- 
ton  and  Tobias  on  Monday  last,  the  21st,  and 
reached  London  on  Tuesday  evening.  Our  road 
lay  over  the  most  beautiful  country,  perhaps,  in  the 
world,  for  most  of  the  way ;  and,  excepting  ten  or 
twelve  miles,  we  travelled  over  all  of  it  in  the  day- 
time. The  part  which  we  passed  over  in  the  night 
lies  between  Wolverhampton  and  Birmingham,  a 
manufacturing  district,  where  the  whole  country 
smokes  and  blazes  with  innumerable  furnaces.  It 
is  remarkable  that  I  should  have  had  the  night  for 
this  part  of  the  road,  where  there  is  little  of  the 
elegance  and  beauty  o-f  the  farming  and  grazing 
districts  which  compose  all  the  rest  of  the  distance. 
One  thing  only  1  regretted  in  it,  (for  under  no  cir- 
cumstances could  I  have  stopped  to  examine  any 
thing,)  and  that  was,  that  TVednesbury,  so  famous 
for  its  violence  towards  the  first  Methodist  preach- 
ers, lay  just  at  this  part  of  our  road;  and,  although 
I  passed  directly  through  it^  I  could  see  but  very 
little  of  it.  The  blazing  furnaces  of  this  district 
have  a  strong  effect  at  night.  The  manufactures 
are  chiefly,  if  not  entirely,  of  iron  and  steel.  We 


REACHES    LONDON.  271 

reached  Birmingham  after  10  o'clock  P.  M.,  and 
passed  the  night  there.  In  the  morning  at  7 
o'clock  we  set  out  for  London,  and  reached  here  at 
7  o'clock  in  the  evening.  I  was  received  with 
great  kindness  by  Mr.  Stephens,  the  President  of 
the  Conference ;  and  having  ascertained  that  Mr. 
!N"ewton  and  myself  were  to  stay  with  Lancelot 
Haslope,  Esq.,  of  Highbury  Lodge,  (the  same  who 
now  stands  in  the  stead  of  the  late  lamented  Mr. 
Butterworth,  as  general  Treasurer  of  the  Mission- 
ary Society,)  we  came  to  our  temporary  home  in 
the  great  metropolis  without  much  delay. 

"Yesterday  I  passed  several  hours  with  the  sta- 
tioniijg  committee,  who,  it  seems,  do  their  work 
before  the  Conference  begins.  Mr.  Keece  and  Mr. 
Hannah  met  me  at  the  President's  house  with  great 
affection,  Mr.  Reece  saying  in  his  peculiar  way,  as 
he  pressed  my  hand  long  and  tenderly,  '  You  know 
I  always  wanted  you  to  come.'  I  was  introduced 
by  him,  and  shook  hands  with  Mr.  Bunting,  Mr. 
Gaulter,  Mr.  Edmonston,  Mr.  Entwistle,  Mr.  Wat- 
son, Mr.  Sutcliffe,  and  others.  Mr.  Moore,  Dr. 
Clarke,  and  others  whom  I  expect  soon  to  see,  were 
not  present.  Mr.  ISTewton  is  the  Apollos  of  the 
Wesleyan  Methodists  as  a  public  speaker,  and  par- 
ticularly so  on  the  platform.  His  manners  are 
very  dignified,  and  yet  exceedingly  pleasant^ — con- 
verses freely,  is  very  witty  and  full  of  anecdote, 
and  is  a  finished  gentleman  as  well  as  a  very  able 
man.  Such  a  forehead  as  Mr.  Watson's,  I  never 
looked  at  in  my  life.  He  is  very  thin  and  pale,  with 


272  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


a  wan  face,  which  looks  even  narrower  than  it 
might,  on  account  of  the  unusual  size  of  his  fore- 
head. Mr.  Watson  is  rather  above'  six  feet  high, 
but  I  suppose  he  would  not  weigh  much,  if  any 
thing,  more  than  I  do.  He  is  acknowledged  on  all 
hands  to  be  the  ablest  man  in  the  Connection.  I 
would  not  have  recognized  Mr.  Bunting  from  any 
likeness  I  have  seen  of  him  ;  indeed,  he  has  too  fine 
an  eye  to  paint.  His  eye  and  Mr.  Watson's  fore- 
head surpass  every  thing.  Mr.  Bunting  is  a  great 
business  man,  and  possesses  an  acuteness  and  quick- 
ness which  such  an  eye  as  his  must  indicate.  He 
is  also  very  remarkable  for  his  great  superiority  in 
extemporaneous  speaking — his  words  and  sentences 
always  flowing  as  freely  and  gracefully  ofi:"  at  hand, 
as  if  they  had  been  chosen  and  arranged  with  the 
greatest  care.  He  is  all  activity  and  energy  in  the 
great  cause  of  Methodism,  and  is  certainly  one  of 
the  first  of  her  sons.  He  is  rather  under  height — 
perhaps  not  more  than  five  feet  eight  inches — and 
is  inclined  to  be  fat.  The  likenesses  of  him  hitherto 
taken  will,  I  hope,  soon  give  way  to  a  better  one; 
as  he  is  expected  to  succeed  the  present  President 
at  the  Conference  about  to  be  held,  and  it  is  a 
custom  to  have  the  likeness  of  every  President 
taken.  Mr.  Edmonston,  Mr.  Entwistle,  and  Mr. 
Sutcliffe,  particularly  the  two  former,  are  also 
among  the  leading  men.  They  all  three  are  aged 
and  venerable,  with  countenances  of  the  utmost 
benignity. 

*' Friday,  25th. — It  is  really  humbling  to  me  to 


CORDIAL  RECEPTION. 


273 


receive  the  free  and  full  and  affectionate  attentions 
which  my  present  situation  brings  me,  from  men 
so  long  and  so  greiaitly  venerated.  I  had  not  anti- 
cipated it.  I  never  can  feel  that  I  am  an  equal  in 
their  presence,  and  yet  I  am  beginning  already  to 
feel  more  at  ease,  as  I  am  more  ,in  their  society. 
This  morning  Mr.  Reece  introduced  me  to  Mr. 
George  Marsden,  one  of  the  oldest,  best,  and  most 
respectable  of  this  venerable  body  of  men.  As  he 
took  me  by  the  hand,  his  eyes  melted  upon  the 
words,  *  How  happy  I  am  to  see  a  representative  of 
the  Church  in  America!'  I  have  not  yet  had  an 
opportunity  to  see  much  of  London,  owing  to  the 
wetness  of  the  weather,  in  part,  but  more  to  my 
being  occupied  with  the  committees,  and  not  being 
able  to  gO  much  abroad  through  this  wilderness 
world  of  a  city,  for  fear  of  losing  myself.  It  re- 
quires great  effort  to  keep  my  spirits  up,  my  dear 
wife — I  cannot  feel  at  home.  I  really  feel  to  sigh, 
in  spite  of  myself,  for  the  humbler  scenes  of  South 
Carolina.  Still,  I  hope  that  I  am  enabled  by  God's 
grace  to  sustain  the  character,  responsible  as  it  is, 
in  which  I  have  been  sent  by  the  American  Church, 
so  as  not  to  lower  the  home  and  the  Church  I  love 
so  well,  in  the  eyes  of  any.  I  am  exceedingly 
anxious — too  much  so — and  cannot  be  otherwise. 
May  God  be  with  me.  Truly,  if  I  know  my  heart, 
my  eye  is  single,  and  always  has  been  so. 

"  July  28. — To-day  is  Monday ;  and  on  yesterday 
I  preached  for  the  first  time  in  this  world  of  a 
town.    The  appointment  was  made  for  me  in  the 


274 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


Great  Queen  Street  Chapel,  the  largest  and  most 
splendid  building  that  I  ever  saw  as  a  Methodist 
church.  iSTo  church  of  any  order  in  Charleston 
can  compare  to  it.  Mr.  I^ewton  read  prayers, 
which  he  does  to  perfection ;  and  I  preached,  as 
well  as  I  could,  on  Rom.  x.  15.  My  heart  was 
enlarged,  and  I  had  utterance  for  my  feelings,  if  I 
had  not  much  mind.  Mr.  Eeece,  Mr.  jSTewton,  and 
many  other  preachers  were  there  ;  and  I  am  thank- 
ful to  know  that  they  were  satisfied  with  it.  It 
was  cheering  to  see  tears  in  the  eyes  of  such  a  man 
as  Mr.  IJs'ewton.  'I  felt,'  said  he  to  me  afterwards, 
'that  your  Master  was  with  you.'  Yes,  truly,  God 
was  with  me ;  and  I  trust  he  will  be  with  me  to 
the  end.  0,  how  earnestly  do  I  throw  myself  upon 
his  gracious  assistance  !  On  Saturday  I  thought  it 
advisable  to  make  a  sort  of  speech  before  the  Book 
Committee,  on  the  subject  of  a  complete  edition  of 
"Wesley's  works ;  and  there  also  before  the  Presi- 
dent, Messrs.  Bunting,  Watson,  ISTewton,  Reece, 
and  many  more  whom  I  honor  too  much  to  speak 
before  without  help,  I  spoke  freely,  and  was  heard 
with  much  apparent  interest,  (cries  of  hear !  hear ! 
being  frequently  uttered,)  and,  I  have  reason  to 
believe,  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  meeting.  I  owe 
very  much  to  the  goodness  of  these  excellent  men. 
Surely,  if  I  ever  felt  the  least  measure  of  Christian 
humility,  I  feel  it  now." 

The  British  Conference  was  opened  on  the  30th 
July,  in  the  City  Road  Chapel.  Mr.  Bunting  was 
elected   President,  and  Mr.  isTewton  Secretary. 


INTRODUCED    TO   THE    CONFERENCE.  275 

After  the  usual  formalities,  the  Irish  Representa* 
tives  were  anuouuced  and  their  address  read.  The 
President  then  expressed  in  handsome  terms  the, 
great  pleasure  he:  felt  in  having  it  in  his  power  to 
introduce  a  Representative  from  the  United  States; 
and  spoke  in  terms  of  high  gratification  of  what  he 
had  seen  of  Mr.  Capers  while  present  at  their  com- 
mittees. Mr.  Reece  rose  and  said  he  had  known 
Mr.  Capers  in  America,  and  loved  .him  then,  and  had 
loved  him  ever  since :  no  one  could  do  otherwise ; 
and  he  knew  they  would  find  it  so.  The  President 
then,  turning  to  Mr.  Capers  and  calling  him  by 
name,  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  said,  "Most 
cordially,  sir,  do  I,  on  behalf  of  the  Conference, 
extend  to  you,  as  the  Representative  of  the  Method- 
ist Episcopal  Church  in  America,  the  right  hand 
of  fellowship."  Mr.  Capers,  with  a  faltering  voice, 
made  suitable  acknowledgments.  The  scene  was 
one  of  interest,  and  produced  a  strong  sensation  in 
the  Conference. 

The  impression  made  upon  Mr.  Capers  by  the 
prominent  men  of  the  "Wesleyan  Connection,  will 
be  best  gathered  from  his  own  words : 

"  On  Sabbath  morning  I  heard  a  wise  and 
good  sermon,  at  City  Road  Chapel,  from  the  ex- 
President;  in  the  afternoon  one  from  Mr.  W.  M. 
Bunting,  at  Great  Queen  Street  Chapel ;  and  in 
the  evening  one  from  President  Bunting  himself. 
The  President  is  the  finest  preacher  I  ever  heard. 
I  was  sitting  on  the  platform  just  by  Mr.  Gaulter ; 
and  as  soon  as  the  service  was  closed,  Mr.  Gaulter 


276  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


said  to  me,  *  'We  have  no  man  in  tlie  Connection  like 
Mr.  Bunting ;  he  is  far  the  best  pattern  for  a  young 
man  that  we  have.  From  first  to  last  he  aims 
simply  at  winning  souls ;  and  he  does  win  them.' 
This  testimony,  so  honorable  to  Mr.  Bunting,  com- 
ing as  it  does  from  one  of  the  present  fathers  of  the 
Connection,  is  well  deserved.  He  uses  very  little 
gesture,  and  seldom  employs  metaphor;  but  with 
a  countenance  expressive  of  great  earnestness,  and 
fluency  of  speech  beyond  any  one  I  ever  heard,  he 
sweeps  along  with  a  full  and  overflowing  tide  of 
solid  argument,  in  neat  and  simple  language.  In 
all  his  sermon  (which  was  an  hour  and  a  half  long) 
I  could  not  detect  the  slightest  inaccuracy.  The 
difference  between  my  friend  ]S'ewton  and  Mr. 
Bunting,  is  almost  as  great  as  that  between  a 
popular  orator  and  a  first-rate  preacher;  and  yet 
Mr.  i^'ewton  is  not  only  an  orator,  but  an  able  man, 
and  an  excellent  preacher  also. 

^'  To-day  I  am  to  dine  with  Dr.  Clarke.  The 
Doctor  is  one  of  the  coarsest-looking  men  I  ever 
saw,  to  be  any  thing  like  civilized  or  learned.  He 
is  strong-built,  and  fleshy ;  would  probably  weigh 
not  much  less  than  two  hundred  pounds ;  is  about 
five  feet  nine  inches  high.  His  hair  is  as  white  as 
cotton,  and  he  wears  it  turned  back  over  his  head. 
It  is  very  thin.  He  has  full  eyebrows,  as  white  as 
the  hair  of  his  head.  His  mouth  is  very  broad ; 
lips  thick  and  prominent.  Has  the  Irish  pronunci-, 
ation  as  perfectly  as  if  he  was  just  from  their  potato 
fields — such  as  sowl  for  soul,  and  sacretary  for  secre- 


ORGANS.  277 

tary.  His  utterance  is  rapid,  and  lijs  language 
always  clear,  strong,  and  simple.  His  face  is  very 
red,  as  if  the  blood  might  gush  out  of  it.  It  is 
quite  striking  to  an  American  how  indifferent 
people  here  seem  to  be  to  the  correct  pronunciation 
of  their  language.  Mr.  Bunting  excepted,  I  cannot 
admire  the  pronunciation  of  any  of  the  preachers  I 
have  met  with.  And  to  hear  such  a  man  as  Mr. 
Watson  say  continually,  7ioledge,  acnoldge^  for  know- 
ledge, etc.,  and  stud,  understudy  etc.,  for  stood, 
understood,  and  the  like,  is  surprising  indeed. 
They  seem,  generally,  to  cleave  to  their  country 
provincialisms.  Certainly  they  could  avoid  them 
if  they  would  try. 

"  Some  of  the  larger  chapels  are  finished  very 
magnificently  in  comparison  with  the  best  we  have 
in  America;  and  organs  are  frequently  used  in 
them.  Even  the  City  Eoad  Chapel  looks  not  very 
like  what  one  might  expect  in  a  house  built  by 
John  "Wesley.  There  is  no  organ,  however,  in  this 
chapel.  It  seems  that  Mr.  Wesley  had  no  objection 
to  organs ;  and  certainly  most  of  the  present 
fathers,  if  they  do  not  greatly  admire  the  use  of 
them  iti  public  worship,  have  no  objection  to  their 
use,  except  on  the  score  of  expense^.  Hundreds  of 
pounds  are  annually  raised  for  the  purchase  of  organs. 
Pity  that  these  sums  were  not  applied  to  another 
use.  Dr.  Clarke  is  a  great  enemy  to  organs.  I 
happened  to  be  sitting  by  him  when  a  question 
involving  an  organ  was  before  the  Conference. 
'Have  you  organs  among  you  in  America?'  said 


278 


LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


lie  to  me,  privately.  *^^'o,  sir,'  I  replied.  'Then,* 
lie  rejoined,  'keep  the  organs  and  the  devil  out.' 
There  had  been  a  serious  dispute  in  one  of  the 
societies  about  an  organ." 

The  Conference  commenced  on  the  30th  July,  at 
six  o'clock  A.  M.  About  four  hundred  and  fifty 
preachers  were  present ;  and  the  session  lasted  till 
the  18th  of  August,  when  it  was  concluded,  at  nine 
o'clock  P.  M.,  as  it  had  been  commenced,  with 
solemn,  fervent  prayer,  by  several  of  the  older 
preachers.  The  visit  and  addresses  of  Mr.  Capers 
were  acknowledged  in  the  following  resolutions, 
unanimously  adopted : 

Resolved,  1.  That  it  is  with  the  most  cordial  satis- 
faction, and  with  sincere  gratitude  to  God,  that  this 
Conference  has  heard  the  interesting  communica- 
tions now  made  by  the  Rev.  "William  Capers,  re- 
specting the  extraordinary  work  of  God  carried  on 
b}'  the  instrumentality  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  in  the  United  States  of  America. 

"  2.  That  the  Conference  receives  with  unfeigned 
pleasure  the  assurances  conveyed  by  Mr.  Capers 
of  the  decided  and  increasing  attachment  of  the 
ministers  and  members  of  the  Church  he  represents, 
to  the  doctrines^  and  general  discipline  of  Method- 
ism, as  preserved  in  the  writings  of  our  venerable 
Founder;  and  of  their  unabated  affection  to  the 
preachers  of  the  British  Conference.  And  this 
Conference  does  most  cordially  assure  the  Ameri- 
can brethren,  that  the  sentiments  of  Christian 
love  and  esteem  expressed  by  them  are  perfectly 


VISIT    TO    HAYDON  HALL. 


279 


reciprocal  on  the  part  of  every  member  of  this 
body. 

"  3.  That  the  cordial  thanks  of  this  Conference 
are  due  to  the  General  Conference  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  in  America,  for  the  appointment 
of  their  excellent  Representative,  Mr.  Capers,  whose 
amiable  manners,  devout  spirit,  and  acceptable 
ministry,  have  greatly  endeared  him  to  the  preach- 
ers now  assembled,  and  confirmed  their  feelings  of 
respect  and  attachment  towards  their  American 
brethren  at  large. 

"  4.  That  the  warmest  thanks  of  the  Conference 
are  hereby  presented  to  Mr.  Capers,  for  the  great 
ability,  Christian  spirit,  and  brotherly  kindness, 
with  which  he  has  discharged  the  duties  of  his 
honorable  mission ;  and  the  Conference  respectfully 
assure  him,  that  their  most  fervent  prayers  for  his 
welfare  will  attend  him  on  his  return  to  his  native- 
country,  and  that  he  will  long  retain  a  high  place 
in  their  affectionate  remembrance." 

On  the  22d  August,  two  days  before  Mr.  Capers 
took  his  final  leave  of  London,  he  fulfilled  an  en- 
gagement previously  made  with  the  venerable  Dr. 
Adam  Clarke,  to  spend  a  short  time  with  him 
at  his  seat,  Haydon  Hall,  fifteen  miles  from  the 
metropolis.  He  gives  the  following  interesting 
account  of  this  visit : 

"My  friend,  the  universally  esteemed  Joseph 
Taylor,  accompanied  me,  and  we  spent  a  most 
pleasant  afternoon  and  night  under  the  roof  of  the 
Doctor.  No  one  can  be  more  perfectly  unbent  than 


280  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


Dr.  Clarke  in  tlie  company  of  his  friends.  Whether 
in  his  librarj^,  with  his  ancient  manuscripts,  which 
he  employed  several  hours  in  showing  us — Arabic, 
Syriac,  Saxon,  etc.,  almost  without  number;  or 
with  the  many  curiosities  he  has  collected  in  his 
museum ;  or  in  his  garden ;  or  the  chapel  which  he 
has  fitted  up  out  of  his  barn ;  or  showing  us  and 
feeding  his  pony,  or  the  dunghill  cock  and  hen 
which  he  brought  with  him  on  his  return  from  a 
recent  visit  to  the  Shetland  Islands :  his  whole 
manner  is  as  easy,  playful,  and  familiar  as  can  be 
conceived ;  such  as  in  turn  would  equally  interest  a 
scholar  or  a  child.  While  at  table,  the  cocked-hat 
he  used  to  wear  was  mentioned.  He  said  he  used 
to  wear  a  slouched  hat,  but  Mr.  Wesley  did  not 
like  it ;  and  after  saying  vaguely  something  on  the 
subject,  he  once  said  in  Adam's  presence,  ^If  a 
Methodist  preacl^er  shall  come  into  my  company 
with  a  slouched  hat  on,  I  will  take  it  as  an  insult.' 
*  This  alarmed  me,'  said  the  Doctor,  '  so  I  straight- 
way got  me  a  cocked-hat.'  Then  leaving  us 
without  saying  why,  he  went  for  his  hat,  and  pre- 
sently coming  in  with  it  on  his  head,  he  saluted  us 
with  great  humor,  bowing  profoundly,  as  if  not  only 
to  show  the  hat,  but  also  the  younger  manners  of 
the  wearer  of  it.  A  similar  piece  of  humor  was 
exhibited  the  next  morning  in  his  study.  His  be- 
ing descended  from  an  honorable  Scotch  family  by 
the  maternal  line,  had  been  mentioned ;  and  while 
I  was  amusing  myself  with  a  rare  book,  he  stepped 
out,  and  presently  returned,  wearing  the  bonnet  of 


DR.    ADAM    CLARKE.  281 

his  house,  (the  house  of  McLean,)  a  blue  woollen 
cap,  with  ostrich  feathers  at  the  left  side,  fastened 
with  a  small  device  of  silver.  After  this  h^  intro- 
duced himself  with  'the  bonnet  of  his  clan  f  a  cap  of 
thick  woollen,  fitting  close  to  the  head,  the  lower 
part  plaided  of  red  and  white,  the  upper  part  blue, 
with  eagle  feathers  fastened  with  a  device  of  silver, 
different  from  the  other.  All  this  was  done  in  per- 
fect play. 

"  The  Doctor's  circumstances  are  very  easy.  The 
country-seat  where  he  lives  is  his  own.  The 
house  is  of  brick,  rather  ancient,  but  large  and 
commodious,  well  built  and  well  furnished ;  with 
an  extensive  lawn  in  front  and  in  the  rear,  with 
elegant  walks,  gardens,  shrubbery,  etc.,  after  the 
English  fashion.  The  roord  which  you  first  enter 
is  curiously  ornamented  with  numerous  ancient 
insignia,  and  various  curiosities  of  Eastern  and 
African  nations,  etc.,  etc.  There  are  two  rooms 
appropriated  to  his  library  and  museum,  besides 
his  study,  which  also  is  of  considerable  size,  and 
is  lined  with  shelves  closely  filled  with  books  and 
manuscripts,  from  the  top  to  the  bottom.  .My 
friend,  Mr.  Taylor,  conjectured  that  his  library  and 
museum  together  might  probably  be  worth  thirty 
thousand  pounds. 

"His  Koyal  Highness,  the  Duke  of  Sussex,  is 
particularly  fond  of  Dr.  Clarke,  and  passes  one  day 
annually  with  him,  at  Haydon  Hall.  The  Doctor 
told  me  it  was  about  the  time  for  him  to  expect 
this  yearly  honor,  but  that  his  visit  to  Shetland, 


282 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


and  the  business  of  tlie  Conference,  had  prevented 
his  making  his  respects  to  the  Duke,  to  know  when 
it  might  suit  his  convenience  to  bestow  it.  The 
Doctor  is  often  at  the  Duke's,  who  is  fond  of  be- 
ing entertained  with  biblical  criticism." 

Four  years  after  the  visit  just  described,  Dr. 
Clarke  died. 

Mr.  Capers  visited,  of  course,  the  principal  points 
of  interest  in  London — the  Thames  Tunnel,  the 
Koyal  Exchange,  Blackfriars'  Bridge,  the  palaces, 
parks,  and  the  like.  Of  St.  Paul's  he  says:  "i^o- 
thing  I  had  ever  imagined  could  equal  my  amaze- 
ment. The  awful  length  and  breadth  and  height ! 
This  cathedral  beggars  every  thing  I  ever  had  be- 
held. The  echoes  give  a  constant  rumbling  through 
its  lofty  arches  that  alone  might  make  one  feel  a 
sense  of  dread.  The  monuments  are  noble  and 
imposing ;  but  there  is  not  one  to  celebrate  a  vic- 
tory, either  by  land  or  sea,  over  the  arms  of  the 
United  States." 

"From  Westminster  Hall,  we  went  to  West- 
minster Abbey ;  and  this,  of  all  things  and  places 
in  England,  is,  I  suppose,  the  best  worth  seeing. 
The  entrance  is  at  the  Poet's  Corner.  And  thence 
through  numerous  compartments  filled  with  monu- 
ments of  statesmen,  knights,  nobles,  warriors,  and 
kings,  you  are  conducted  by  one  who  has  an  in- 
terest in  it,  and  who  explains  every  remarkable 
monument  throughout  the  whole  labyrinthine  pile. 
It  is  solemn  even  to  awfulness  to  go  through  this 
place.    The  majesty  of  the  building  is  surpassed 


LEAVE-TAKING. 


283 


only  by  St.  Paul's.  We  could  not  get  through  be- 
fore the  afternoon  service  was  commenced.  The 
place  of  worship,  however,  being  distinct  from  the 
rest  of  the  Abbey,  we  were  not  interrupted;  and 
after  we  had  gone  mostly  through  the  Abbey,  we 
entered  the  chapel  and  took  some  part,  if  indeed  it 
can  be  called  part,  in  the  service.  There  were  but 
few  persons  present ;  and  I  could  not  but  think 
that  in  that  awful  place  there  appeared  less  of  de- 
votion than  I  ever  saw  in  a  poor  log-cabin  meeting- 
house in  America:  so  little  can  the  parade  and 
pomp  of  circumstance  do  for  religion !  Having 
heard,  indistinctly,  part  of  the  afternoon  service 
read,  and  listened  to  the  pretty  little  Westminster 
boys  chanting  the  Psalms,  we  concluded  our  in- 
spection of  the  monuments,  where  we  had  begun 
it,  namely,  at  the  Poet's  Corner." 

On  the  26th  August,  Mr,  Capers  left  the  elegant, 
hospitable  Highbury  Lodge,  and  the  far-famed 
mammoth  city  of  London,  never  expecting  to  see 
either  of  them  again.  He  was  engaged  to  take 
breakfast  at  Mr.  Taylor's  at  half-past  eight  o'clock, 
and  the  stage-coach  for  Oxford  at  nine.  The  part- 
ing scene  was  touching.  ^'At  seven  o'clock  all  the 
family  were  in  the  library  (one  hour  before  their 
usual  hour  of  rising)  to  spend  the  last  moments 
with  me,  and  bid  adieu.  Mr.  Haslope  asked  me 
to.  pray  with  them ;  after  which  I  took  leave,  not 
as  a  stranger  would  take  leave  of  strangers,  but  as 
a  friend  bidding  adieu  to  beloved  and  honored 
friends.    Mr.  H.  had  ordered  the  coach,  and  accom- 


284  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

panied  me  to  Mr.  Taylor's,  where  we  breakfasted 
together,  and  then  went  to  the  stage-office.  I  could 
not  finally  leave  London,  and  especially  I  could 
not  take  a  final  adieu  of  Mr.  Haslope  and  Mr. 
Taylor,  without  feeling  much.  I  have  been  a 
month  in  Mr.  Haslope' s  family,  a  stranger,  a 
foreigner,  during  which  time  I  have  had  every 
mark  of  respect  that  could  have  been  shown  a  most 
honored  guest  extended  to  me.  More  than  this : 
respect,  even  in  this  short  time,  has  ripened  into 
affection ;  and  I  have  been  unceasingly,  of  late, 
gratified  with  the  tenderest  proofe  of  it.  Nothing 
has  been  wanting  from  every  member  of  the  family 
to  show  their  affection  for  me.  I  never  knew  a 
more  amiable  or  happy  family;  I  never  knew 
one  to  whom,  in  so  short  a  time,  I  felt  so  much 
attached." 

This  testimony  is  alike  honorable  to  host  and 
guest.  Mr.  Capers  possessed  rare  social  qualities — 
genial  warmth,  quick  sympathy  with  every  gene- 
rous and  noble  trait  of  character,  rich  conversa- 
tional power,  and  the  ease  and  finish  of  elegant 
manners.  He  was  fitted  not  only  to  shine  in  the 
higher  circles  of  London  society,  but  to  attract 
genuine  esteem  and  affection.  That  the  Haslopes 
should  have  taken  him  to  their  hearts  is  not  won- 
derful. In  them  he  saw  a  model  specimen  of  the 
cultivated,  refined.  Christian,  English  family.  The 
abolition  mania  had  not  then  spread  its  fanatical 
virus  over  British  society;  nor  was  it  considered 
that  an  American  Christian  gentleman  had  no  right 


ENGLISH  ANTI-SLAVERY. 


285 


to  the  courtesies  of  society  if  lie  had  the  misfortune 
to  come  from  South  Carolina. 

Allowance  should  undoubtedly  be  made  for  the 
present  anti-Southern  feelings  of  ourBritish  cousins. 
It  was  not  until  the  session  of  the  Wesleyan  Con- 
ference in  1830  that  the  subject  of  the  abolition  of 
slavery  in  the  West  India  colonies  was  formally 
taken  up  by  the  Conference.  Qnly  about  twenty 
yeavs  previously,  Great  Britain  had  put  an  end  to 
the  slave-trade,  after  having  kept  it  up  in  full  play 
for  two  hunched  and  fifty  years,  and  filled  not  only 
the  West  India  islands  but  the  American  colonies 
with  enslaved  Africans.  And  it  was  not  until  1834 
that  the  British  Parliament  abolished  slavery  in  the 
West  Indies.  The  policy,  enterprise,  and  ships  of 
England  planted  the  institution  in  the  Southern 
States.  England  is  the  mother,  the  dry-nurse  of 
the  system ;  and  to  this  day  the  slave-raised  cotton 
of  these  .same  States  keeps  up  a  large  portion  of 
her  manufacturing  industry.  Considering  all  this, 
it  is  not  matter  of  much  surprise  that  her  late-born 
abolition  zeal  should  approach  the  limits  of  the 
farcical.  How  appropriate,  for  instance,  is  it  that 
this  zeal  should  show  its  abhorrence  of  a  two- 
hundred  and  fifty  years'  policy  and  profits  by  de-  « 
dining  all  fraternal  ecclesiastical  intercourse  be- 
tween its  now  immaculate  self  and  the  Southern 
American  churches  around  which  that  very  policy 
planted  the  germs  of  existing  servile  institutions ! 
The  charm  of  consistency  in  the  whole  thing  is  re-  • 
freshing. 


286  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

It  was  the  good  fortune  of  Mr.  Capers  to  visit 
G-reat  Britain  before  the  times  were  changed.  He 
was  received  with  the  utmost  cordiality,  and  with 
unbounded  kindness.  The.  General  Conference 
was  thanked  for  the  appointment  of  so  "  excellent 
a  representative."  His  Christian,  devout  spirit, 
no  less  than  his  "great  ability,"  was  noticed  in' 
formal  resolutions.  In  fine,  the  Wesleyans  had 
not  reached  that  point  of  progress  at  which  "  con- 
nection with  slavery"  was  the  unpardonable  sin. 
He  left  the  shores  of  Albion  in  the  odor  of 
sanctity ! 

After  leaving  London  he  visited  Oxford,  and 
saw  Mr.  "Wesley's  room  in  Lincoln  College :  Kings- 
wood,  and  made  an  address  to  the  sons  of  the 
preachers  there  ;  Madeley,  and  preached  in  the  barn 
where  John  Fletcher's  voice  had  so  often  been 
heard.  The  curate,  Mr.  Cooper,  took  him  through 
the  vicarage-house,  garden,  church,  etc. ;  and  be- 
fore they  parted  asked  Mr.  Capers  to  pray  with  him 
in  the  room  where  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fletcher 
died.  He  spent  a  Sabbath  at  Manchester,  went  to 
Leeds,  Edinburgh,  Glasgow,  thence  to  Belfast  and 
Dublin,  and  back  to  Liverpool ;  from  which  port 
he  sailed  for  Charleston,  early  in  October.  The 
voyage  home  lasted  forty-five  days :  a  length  of 
time  almost  fabulous  in  these  days  of  ocean 
steamers.  One  storm  after  another  pelted  the  poor 
"Lady  Rowena."  Spars  were  splintered,  sails 
torn,  the  ship's  cow  was  battered  to  death ;  they 
saw  the  " compesants,"  fire-balls  at  the  masthead; 


TUE    RETURN  HOME; 


287 


and  witnessed  the  rush  of  waterspout  which 
passed  with  furious  bellowing  witliin  two  hundred 
.  yards  of  the  ship.  .Mr.  Capers  held  Divine  service 
every  Sabbath,  for  the  most  of. the  time  "  all  sitting 
and  holding  on."  "With  a  joy  language  cannot 
depict,  and  with  the  devoutest  gratitude  to  God  for 
so  many  mercies,  he  returned  to  his  own  dear 
family  circle,  after  an  absence  of  nearly  six 
months. 


288  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Invitation  to  go  to  Baltimore — Missions  to  the  blacks  estabUshed— 
Results  of  these  missions. 
• 

On  his  return  from  England,  Mr.  Capers  immedi- 
ately resumed  the  duties  of  his  Presiding  Elder's 
office.  "The  membership  on  the  Charleston  District, 
as  reported  at  the  close  of  the  year  1828,  amounted 
to  three  thousand  four  hundred  and  ninety-two 
whites,  and  five  thousand  nine  hundred  and  seven- 
ty-seven colored.  Soon  after  the  session  of  the 
Annual  Conference,  Dr.  T.  E.  Bond,  of  Baltimore, 
opened  a  correspondence  with  Mr.  Capers,  to  ascer- 
tain whether  he  could  he  prevailed  upon  to  take 
a  transfer  to  the  Baltimore  Conference.  Mr.  Ca- 
pers, in  reply,  adverted  to  several  grave  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  such  a  project.  Dr.  Bond,  in  a  letter 
bearing  date  February  27th,  1829,  undertook  to 
obviate  these  difficulties.  One  of  them  was  that 
Dr.  Capers  was  a  slaveholder.  It  had  been  under- 
stood that  the  good  old  Baltimore  Conference  had 
defined  its  position  on  this  vexed  question ;  and 
that,  while  it  tolerated  slaveholders  among  the 
membership  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  it 
had  set  its  face  against  having  a  slaveholder  among 


INVITATION   TO   BALTIMOiiE.  289 

the  travelling  preachers.  This  Mr.  Capers  consid- 
ered, of  course,  a  bar  to  any  further  negotiations 
on  the  subject.  As  one  of  the  curiosities  of  eccle- 
siastical diplomacy,  it  may  interest  some  of  our 
readers  who  recollect  Dr.  Bond's  after-course  as 
editor  of  the  Christian  Advocate  and  Journal,  and, 
in  particular,  his  attacks  on  Dr.  Capers  personally, 
as  a  slaveholder,  to  see  an  extract  from  this  letter 
6{  February  27th.  The  following  paragraph  is  a 
faithful  copy  from  the  original :  "  The  friends  who 
united  with  me  in  reference  to  the  suggestion  made 
in  my  last,  have  very  carefully  considered  the  ob- 
jection you  so  frankly  make  to  our  proposal.  But, 
after  mature  deliberation,  they  do  not  entirely  ac- 
cord with  you  in  the  opinion  that  your  transfer  to 
this  Conference  is  unsuitable.  In  the  first  place, 
your  apprehension  that  your  being  the  owner  of 
slaves,  under  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  case, 
would  operate  to  your  disadvantage,  is,  we  think, 
a  mistake.  K  you  cannot  free  them  where  you 
live,  and  circumstances  render  it  improper  to  re- 
move them,  as  we  understand  is  the  case,  we  speak 
advisedly  when  we  say,  that  your  being  so  unfortu- 
nate as  to  be  encumbered  with  slaves  will  not  be  in 
the  way  of  your  usefulness  in  Baltimore." 

Must  not  strange  ideas  of  ecclesiastical  unit}/  ob- 
tain in  a  connectional  Church  which  permits  a 
domestic  institution,  such  as  slavery,  to  exist  in 
one  portion  of  its  geographical  territory,  under  the 
full  sanction  both  of  disciplinary  statute  and  pub- 
lic opinion,  and,  in  another  portion,  condemns  the 
10 


290 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


same  institution  as  not  only  sinful  but  infamous  ? — 
which  allows  in  laymen,  family  and  civil  relations 
which  in  the  case  of  ministers  become  at  once  viola- 
tions of  moral  law  ? — which,  consequently,  holds 
to  a  variable  rule  of  Christian  morals,  adjusted  by 
a  sliding  scale — one  thing  to  one  man,  and  alto- 
gether another  to  another  man? — which  asks, 
"  What  shall  be  done  for  the  extirpation  of  the 
great  evil  of  slavery?"  and  answers  the  question 
by  distinctly  permitting  it  to  exist  within  one  half 
of  the  ecclesiastical  enclosures? — which  deplores 
a  connection  with  slavery"  as  a  terrible  calamity, 
and  all  the  while  keeps  in  its  communion,  as 
brethren  beloved,  ministers  and  laymen  who  hold 
slaves  ?  If  it  be  said  that  this  is  an  evil,  in  the 
eye  of  ecclesiastical  law,  only  as  poverty  or  bad  civil 
government  is  an  evil,  what  has  the  Church  to  do 
with  it  ?  If  an  evil  in  a  moral  and  religious  point 
of  view,  in  other  words  a  sin,  how  then  can  the 
Church,  the  guardian  of  public  morals,  tolerate  it  ? 
These  questions  never  have  been  answered.  The 
whole  case  is  perfectly  anomalous.  And  far  back 
of  the  General  Conference  of  1844  must  be  traced 
the  germ  of  connectional  separation,  which  came 
to  maturity  in  the  action  of  a  majority  of  that 
body,  in  the  cases  of  a  Baltimore  preacher  and  a 
Georgia  Bishop. 

Mr.  Capers  declined,  of  course,  all  overtures  to 
remove  from  the  South  Carolina  Conference,  al- 
though in  the  negotiations  very  liberal  offers  of  a 
pecuniary  sort  were  made  him.    He  had,  indeed, 


MISSIONS   TO   THE   BLACKS.  291 

been  compelled  to  use,  of  his  own  small  patrimony, 
at  least  three  thousand  dollars  beyond  the  means 
allowed  him  for  the  support  of  his  family,  in  the 
service  of  the  Church.  Pecuniary  embarrassments 
began  to  give  him  some  distress  of  mind ;  but  as 
soon  as  this  was  known  to  his  friends  on  the  dis- 
trict, a  handsome  amount,  fully  covering  what  was 
understood  to  be  his  liabilities,  was  immediately 
made  up,  principally  in  the  Black  Swamp  and 
Orangeburg  Circuits,  and  presented  to  him  in  the 
kindest  and  most  delicate  manner. 

The  year  1829  is  memorable  as  the  period  of  the 
inauguration  of  a  great  movement  in  the  Southern 
portion  of  the  Methodist  Church.  Two  missions 
to  the  plantation-slaves  were  established,  one  to  the 
blacks  south  of  Ashley  river,  to  which  the  Rev. 
John  Honour  was  appointed  missionary ;  and  the 
other  to  the  blacks  on  Santee  river,  who  were 
served  by  the  Eev.  J.  H.  Massey  as  missionary. 
Mr.  Capers,  in  addition  to  his  regular  duties  as 
Presiding  Elder,  had  the  honor  to  be  appointed 
Superintendent  of  these  missions.  In  the  autumn 
of  the  preceding  year,  after  his  return  from  Eng- 
land, Mr.  Capers  was  waited  on  by  the  Hon. 
Charles  C.  Pinckney,  a  gentleman  who  had  a  large 
planting  interest  on  Santee,  to  ascertain  whether  a 
Methodist  exhorter  could  be  recommended  to  him 
as  a  suitable  person  to  oversee  his  plantation.  Mr. 
Pinckney  stated,  as  the  reasons  for  this  application, 
Mr.  Capers' s  known  interest  in  the  religious  wel- 
fare of  the  colored  population,  and  the  fact  that. 


292  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

the  happy  results  which  had  followed  the  pious  en- 
deavors of  a  Methodist  overseer  on  the  plantation 
of  one  of  his  Georgia  friends,  had  directed  his  at- 
tention to  the  subject.  Mr.  Capers  told  Mr.  Pinck- 
ney  that  he  doubted  whether  he  could  serve  him  in 
that  particular  way,  but  that,  if  he  would  allow 
him  to  make  application  to  the  Bishop  and  Mis- 
sionary Board  at  the  approaching  session  of  the 
Conference,  he  would  venture  to  promise  that  a 
minister,  for  whose  character  he  could  vouch  fully, 
should  be  sent  to  his  .  plantation  as  a  missionary, 
whose  time  and  efforts  should  be  devoted  exclu- 
sively to  the  religious  instruction  and  spiritual  wel- 
fare of  his  colored  people.  To  this  proposal  Mr. 
Pinckney  gave  his  cordial  assent.  Soon  after.  Col. 
Lewis  Morris  and  Mr.  Charles  Baring,  of  Pon  ^fon^ 
united  in  a  similar  request.  These  were  gentlemen 
of  high  character,  who  thus  took  the  initiative  in 
a  course  of  missionary  operations  which  may  just- 
ly be  termed  the  glory  of  Southern  Christianity. 
They  were  members  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church,  but  availed  themselves  of  the  earliest 
opening  which  the  peculiar  itinerant  organization 
of  the  Methodist  Church  afforded,  for  furnishing 
religious  instruction  to  their  slaves  at  the  hands,  of 
men  deemed  competent  and  safe  in  the  judgment 
of  Mr.  Capers. 

The  position  of  the  plantation  negroes  on  the 
river-deltas  of  the  low  country  is  peculiar.  In  this 
malarial  region  very  few  white  families  are  found. 
Churches  are,  of  course,  very  scarce ;  and  apart 


CONDITION    OF    TUE    BLACKS.  293 

from  special  arrangements  made  for  the  religious 
improvement  of  the  blacks  by  the  planters,  there  is 
no  access,  in  many  instances,  to  any  of  the  agencies 
of  the  organized  Christianity  of  the  country. 
Originally  brought  from  Western  Africa,  the  most 
ignorant,  and  degraded  portion  of  the  realm  of 
Paganism  ;  enslaved,  many  of  them,  in  their  father- 
land ;  victims  of  debasing  superstitions ;  what  re- 
cuperative element  was  there  to  be  found  in  their 
condition  ?  That  inscrutable  providence  of  God, 
whose  march  through  the  centuries  is  apparently 
slow  but  with  unerring  tread  and  in  the  right 
direction,  seems  to  have  overruled  the  cupidity  of 
the  British  slave-traders,  and  allowed  an  exodus 
of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  Africa's  childreti  to 
the  shores  of  this  country,  where,  under  the  mild 
form  of  servitude  known  in  the  Southern  States, 
they  contribute  to  the  feeding  and  clothing  of  the 
world,  and  are  at  the  same  time  environed  with 
the  light  and  saving  influences  of  Christian  civiliz- 
ation. Unfit  for  political  freedom,  unable  to 
govern  themselves  ;•  put  by  color  and  caste,  as  well 
as  by  intellectual  inferiority,  beyond  the  possibility 
of  any  future  absorption  into  the  dominant  white 
race,  their  condition  requires  but  one  additional 
element  to  render  it,  in  their  present  circumstances, 
in  the  South,  the  best  that  appears  attainable  by 
them — and  that  is  religious  instruction,  adapted 
to  their  mental  capabilities.  Much  has  been  said 
or  "shrieked,"  by  traders  in  philanthropy,  con- 
cerning the  "chattel"  into  which  the  negro  has 


294  LIFE    OE    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


•  been  transformed  by  Southern  legislation..  The 
fact,  however,  remains  unaltered,  that  Southern 
law  considers  the  slave  a  person,  treats  him  as 
possessed  of  ethical  character,  and  protects  him  as 
fnlly,  in  his  place,  as  it  does  his  master  in  his. 
And  public  opinion  freely  concedes  that  moral 
capabilities .  and  an  immortal  destiny  righteously 
demand  moral  cultivation,  religious  opportunities 
— in  a  word,  the  gospel,  which  is  the  chartered 
right  of  the  poor,  and  the  precious  boon  of  the  ^ 
"bond"  as  well  as  the  free.  The  master  is  under 
obligation  to  have  his  servant  taught  the  duties  he 
owes  to  God  and  man.  This  is  one  of  the  respon- 
sibilities involved  in  the  relation  between  the 
parties ;  and  from  this  responsibility  there  is  no 
escape  while  the  relation  exists,  and  while  the 
sanction  of  the  Kew  Testament  is  claimed  for  it. 

We  have  related  the  circumstances  under  which 
the  experiment  of  a  system  of  religious  operations 
among  the  plantation  negroes  of  South  Carolina 
began.  Mr.  Capers  made  regular  visitations  to 
the  two  infant  missions  during  the  year.  On  the 
11th  September,  Mr.  Honour,  who  had  charge  of 
the  one  to  the  south  of  Charleston,  took  sick  from 
bilious  fever  contracted  by  exposure  in  the  swamps 
where  his  mission  lay.  On  the  19th  of  the  same 
month,. after  "witnessing  a  good  confession  before 
many  witnesses,"  he  triumphantly  concluded  his 
mortal  life,  and  entered  into  life  everlasting.  Thus 
the  very  outset  of  the  enterprise  cost  the  life  of  a 
missionary.    But  this  sacrifice  furnished  proof  that 


QUESTION   OF    ABOLITIONISM.  295 

the  heroic  spirit  of  the  ancient  faith  was  not  yet 
extinct  in  the  Church;  and  that  Methodist 
preachers  knew  how  to  die  at  their  posts,  though 
these  might  lie  among  the  rice-fields  and  negro- 
quarters. 

Mr.  Capers  continued  to  feel  to  the  time  of  his 
death  an  unahated  interest  in  this  missionary 
work  among  the  hlacks  of  the  low-country  plan- 
tations. He  was  called  upon  in  1836,  in  view  of 
the  growing  excitement  at  the  ISTorth  on  the  vexed 
question,  to  present,  in  the  Keport  of  the  South 
Carolina  Conference  Missionary  Society,  the  posi- 
tion held  by  the  Conference  on  the  subject  of 
abolition.  This  he  did  in  the  following  terms : 
"We  regard  the  question  of  the  abolition  of  slavery 
as  a  civil  one,  belonging  to  the  State,  and  not  at  all 
a  religions  one,  or  appropriate  to  the  Church. 
Though  we  do  hold  that  abuses  which  may  some- 
times happen,  such  as  excessive  labor,  extreme 
punishment,  withholding  necessary  food  and  cloth- 
ing, neglect  in  sickness  or  old  age,  and  the  like, 
are  immoralities,  to  be  prevented  or  punished  by 
all  proper  means,  both  of  Church  discipline  and 
the  civil  law,  each  in  its  sphere. 

"  2.  We  denounce  the  principles  and  opinions  of 
the  abolitionists  in  ioto,  and  do  solemnly  declare 
our  conviction  and  belief,  that  whether  they  were 
originated,  as  some  business  men  have  thought,  as 
a  money  speculation^  or,  as  some  politicians  think,  for 
party  electioneering  p^urposes,  or,  as  we  are  inclined  to 
believe,  in  a  false  philosophy,  overreaching  and 


296- 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  GAPERS. 


setting  aside  ttie  Scriptures,  througli  a  vain  conceit 
of  a  higher  refinement,  they  are  utterly  erroneous, 
and  altogether  hurtful. 

"  3.  We  believe  that  the  Holy  Scriptures,  so  far 
from  giving  any  countenance  to  this  delusion,  do 
unequivocally  authorize  the  relation  of  master  and 
slave:  1.  By  holding  masters  and  their  slaves 
alike,  as  believers,  brethren  beloved.  2.  By  en- 
joining on  each  the  duties  proper  to  the  other.  3. 
By  grounding  their  obligations  for  the  fulfilment 
of  these  duties,  as  of  all  others,  on  their  relation  to 
God.  Masters  could  never  have  had  their  duties 
enforced  by  the  consideration,  'your  Master  who 
is  in  heaven,'  if  barely  being  a  master  involved  in 
itself  any  thing  immoral. 

"Our  missionaries  inculcate  the  duties  of  ser- 
vants to  their  masters,  as  we  find  those  duties 
stated  in  the  Scriptures.  They  inculcate  the  per- 
formance of  them  as  indispensably  important.  We 
hold  that  a  Christian  slave  must  be  submissive, 
faithful,  and  obedient,  for  reasons  of  the  same 
authority  with  those  which  oblige  husbands,  wives, 
fathers,  mothers,  brothers,  sisters,  to  fulfil  the  duties 
of  these  relations.  We  would  employ  no  one  in  the 
work  who  might  hesitate  to  teach  thus;  nor  can 
such  a  one  be  found  in  the  whole  number  of  the 
preachers  of  this  Conference." 

iSTearly  a  generation  has  X->assed  away  since  the 
commencement  of  these  missionary  operations 
among  the  blacks.  It  is  interesting  to  trace  their 
expansion  and  results  through  a  quarter  of  a  cen- 


RESULTS    OF  MISSIONS. 


297 


tury.  That  there  has  been  a  large  development  is 
proved  by  the  statistics  published  from  year  to 
year  by  the  Missionary  Society.  In  1833  two 
additional  mission  stations  were  established.  In 
1834,  they  numbered  six ;  in  1835,  eight ;  in  1836, 
nine;  in  1837,  ten;  and  ten  years  afterwards,  viz., 
in  1847,  there  were  seventeen  missions,  served  by 
twenty-five  efiicient  preachers  of  the  Conference. 
At  the  death  of  Bishop  Capers,  there  were  twenty- 
six  missionary  stations  in  South  Carolina,  on  which 
were  employed  thirty-two  preachers.  The  number 
of  Church  members  at  that  time  .was  11,546  on 
these  mission  stations.  The  missionary  revenue 
of  the  Conference  had  risen  from  $300  to  $25,000. 
These  are  very  substantial  results,  so  far  as  sta- 
tistics go. 

Beyond  all  this,  several  important  consequences 
may  be  observed.  That  the  religious,  sentiment  of 
the  country  should  be  directed,  clearly  and  strongly, 
in  favor  of  furnishing  the  colored  population  with 
the  means  of  hearing  the  gospel  of  their  salvation, 
and  of  learning  their  duty  to  God  and  their  accounta- 
bility in  a  future  life,  is  a  very  cheering  aspect  of 
the  whole  subject.  The  history  of  these  missions 
brings  out  the  fact  that  the  Christian  minister  has 
been  welcomed  on  the  plantations ;  that  chapels 
have  been  built;  liberal  contributions  been  fur- 
nished by  the  planters;  master  and  servant  are 
seen  worshipping  God  together :  the  spirit  of  Chris- 
tian light  and  love  has  reacted  upon  the  one,  while 
it  has  directly  benefited  the  other.  How  important 
13* 


298 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


is  a  growing  public  sentiment  which  shows  itself 
in  such  aspects  as  these  ! 

We  may  notice,  moreover,  the  positive  influence 
of  Christianity  upon  the  negro  population.  The 
gospel  is  a  message  intended  for  all  men.  It  takes 
up,  in  its  grand  generalizations,  the  bond  as  well 
as  the  free.  Its  offer  of  salvation  is  meant  to  be 
irrespective  of  all  outward  conditions.  That  it 
should  be  preached  to  all  classes  of  men,  is  the 
distinct  and  clearly  revealed  will  of  God,  and, 
therefore,  matter  of  duty  and  obligation  to  the 
Church.  Now,  if  nothing  more  had  been  accom- 
plished than  the  meeting  of  this  solemn  responsi-  . 
bility,  that  would  have  been  doing  much.  Success 
is  with  God ;  duty  is  for  us.  And  so,  too,  it  were 
matter  of  special  thankfulness  with  every  right- 
minded  master,  that,  in  the  peculiar  relation  sus-  . 
tained  by  him  to  his  slaves,  it  had  been  in  his 
power  to  welcome  and  aid  the  Christian  minister 
in  preaching  Jesus  and  the  resurrection  to  his  de- 
pendents, even  though  no  visible  fruit  of  holiness 
appeared  as  the  result.  But  beyond  all  this,  it  is 
confidently  believed  that  Christian  influence  has 
made  itself  felt  in  the  conscience,  conversation, 
and  life  of  thousands  of  the  blacks,  A  vast  deal 
of  ignorance  has  been  in  the  way,  on  the  part  of 
the  old  negroes ;  many  superstitious  notions,  many 
fixed  habits  of  immorality,  have  opposed  barriers 
to  the  e^trance  of  the  word  of  God  to  the  inner 
man.  The  improvement  on  the  part  of  the  younger 
generation  has  not  been  as  extensive  as  their  oppor- 


'   SUCCESS   AMONG   THE   BLACKS.  299 

tunities  of  instruction.  Where,  indeed,  shall  we  go 
to  find,  as  yet,  the  universal  sway  of  Christianity  ? 
And  where  is  that  c-ommunity  in  which  it  has  been 
allowed  to  cure  all  the  evils  of  man's  nature? 
While,  however,  it.  is  not  claimed  that  any  very 
extraordinary  success  in  the  conversion  of  the 
blacks  has  crowned  the  exertions  of  the  missiona- 
ries, it  will  hardly  be  denied  that,  in  many  instances, 
and  on  all  the  mission  stations,  the  force  of  Chris- 
tian truth,  and  the  power  of  Christian  motives,  and 
the  renewing  influences  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  have 
been  felt.  It  is  obvious  that  much  of  the  instruc- 
tion given  in  the  ministrations  of  the  missionaries 
must,  of  necessity,  deal  in  the  first  principles  of 
Christian  truth ;  must,  to  a  large  extent,  be  adapted 
to  an  huntible  grade  of  intellect,  and  a  limited  range 
of  knowledge ;  and  must  make  its  impression  by 
constant  and  patient  reiteration.  This  is  precisely 
what  is  doing  all  the  time.  No  romance  surrounds 
such  a  field  of  labor;  it  lacks  all  the  elements 
which  stir  the  enthusiasm  of  lofty  minds ;  it  is,  in 
the  highest  degree,  a  work  of  faith,  demanding 
the  patience  of  hope  and  the  labor  of  love.  But 
now  and  then  a  gleam  of  light  breaks  out :  some 
death-bed  scene  in  the  lowly  cabin  of  the  negro- 
quarter  attests  the  power  and  glory  of  the  gospel. 
Instead  of  the  stupid  indifference  of  a  semi-brutal 
nature,  or  the  frantic  moanings  of  a  terrified  super- 
stition, the  missionary  witnesses  the  calm  confi- 
dence of  a  faith  which  leans  on  the  bosom  of  Jesus 
— the  Man  of  sorrows — the  Son  of  God ;  and  which 


300  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


trusts  his  merits  for  salvation  in  a  crisis  that  baffles 
the  proudest  reason,  and  prostrates  the  loftiest  self- 
righteousness. 

But,  furthermore,  it  is  worthy  of  notice  that,  in 
connection  with  regular  preaching,  the  catechetical 
instruction  of  the  young  negroes  is  constantly  at- 
tended to.  This  is  uniformly  done  orally.  These 
"little  children"  are  brought  to  Christ.  Is  it  say- 
ing too  much  to  affirm  that  of  many  such  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  ?  Christian  nurture  thus  grows 
with  their  growth.  Correct  ideas  of  God,  of  duty, 
of  the  relations  of  time  and  eternity,  of  human  ac- 
countability— the  foundation-principles  of  Chris- 
tian character  and  life — are  laid  in  the  earliest 
years  of  these  catechumens.  All  true  and  trust- 
worthy morality,  in  all  classes  of  society,  and  par- 
ticularly in  the  class  now  specially  referred  to, 
springs  from  these  germs.  Beginning  with  the 
nascent  growth  of  the  intellect,  the  system  has 
demonstrated  the  entire  practicability  of  the  moral 
improvement  of  the  African.  The  lessons  im- 
printed on  the  mind  of  childhood  may  be  neglected 
and  their  a'uthority  spurned  in  after  life,  as  in  the 
case  of  others  in  different  circumstances,  but  they 
can  never  be  forgotten.  They  cling  to  the  mem- 
ory; they  haunt  the  conscience;  they  whisper  in 
the  still  small  voice ;  they  work  valuable  restraints; 
they  furnish  salutary  directions  ;  they  inspire  hopes 
connected  with  the  soul's  best  interests  ;  they  form 
a  life-long  testimony  for  God  and  goodness,  and 
against  sin  and  its  fearful  retributions  in  the  life  to 


SUCCESS. AMONG   THE   BLACKS,  301 


come.  It  would  be  singular,  indeed,  if  this  im- 
plantation of  moral  elements  and  vital  forces,  in 
the  very  formation  of  cha-racter,  should  lead  to  no 
observable  good  results  in  the  deportment  of  the 
plantation-negro.  It  is  true,  that  to  look  for  moral 
results  in  the  absence  of  moral  causeS' — for  honesty, 
fidelity,  industry,  sobriety,  kindliness,  and  self- 
restraint  where  no  moral  instruction  has  been  im- 
parted— would  be  as  absurd  as  to  expect  to  reap 
where  there  has  been  no  sowing.  But  such  an 
absurdity  is  not  involved  in  the  present  case.  The 
bloom  of  spring  and  the  fruits  of  summer  are  not 
anticipated  where  the  tree  is  severed  from  its  root. 
The  moral  nurture  is  given,  and  we  have  a  right  to 
anticipate  appropriate  and  salutary  results. 

In  point  of  fact,  a  gratifying  degree  of  success 
has  crowned  these  efforts.  The  testimony  of  mas- 
ters and  missionaries  goes  to  show  that  a  whole- 
some effect  has  been  produced  upon  the  character 
of  the  negro  population  generally.  A  change  for 
the  better  is  visible  everywhere,  when  the  present 
generation  is  contracted  with  the  past.  And  in 
how  many  instances  the  gospel  has  proved  the 
power  of  God  to  salvation,  and  presented  before 
the  throne  the  spirits  of  these  children  of  Ham, 
redeemed  and  washed  "  by  the  blood  of  sprinkling," 
and  fitted  for  an  abode  in  heaven,  the  revelations 
of  the  last  day  will  disclose.  Results  such  as  these 
lie,  of  course,"  beyond  the  track  of  mortal  observa- 
tion. But  if  these  ministerial  labors  have  indeed 
been  instrumental  in  developing  and  directing 


302 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


ai'iglit  the  sentiment  of  religion ;  the  capahility  of 
knowing  God  so  as  to  fear  him ;  of  guiding  to 
Christ,  and  ultimately  to  heaven,  any  number  of 
these  docile  and  lowly  but  yet  immortal  beings, 
for  whom  redemption  was  provided  in  the  sacrifice 
of  the  Son  of  God,  then  they  deserve  to  be  reckoned 
among  the  noblest  triumphs  of  missionary  patience 
and  zeal ;  none  the  less  important  that  they  lie  at 
home,  nor  the  less  noteworthy  in  contrast  with  the 
turbulent,  malign,  and  desolating  frenzy  at  the 
IN'orth,  which,  making  the  civil  and  social  relations 
of  this  class  of  our  population  the  pretext,  has 
broken  up  Church  associations,  carried  politics 
into  the  pulpit,  and  is  pushing  the  miners  and 
sappers  to  the  very  foundations  of  the  Federal  Union. 
Looking  from  his  death-bed  at  the  peaceful  progress 
of  that  system  of  operations  for  the  religious  in- 
struction of  the  slaves  of  his  native  State  which 
Dr.  Capers  had  been  instrumental  in  setting  on 
foot,  he  might  well  have  said : 
"Deus  nobis  hsec  otia  fecit." 


DOCTOR   OF  DIVINITY. 


303 


CHAPTER  V. 

Elected  Professor  in  Franklin  College — His  own  humble  apprecia- 
tion of  his  scholastic  abilities — Severe  illness — Castile  Selby — 
Stationed  in  Columbia — Correspondence  with  Dr.  Cooper. 

In  J^ovember,  1829,  Mr.  Capers  was  elected  Pro- 
fessor of  Moral  Philosophy  and  Belles  Lettres  in 
Pranklin  College,  Georgia.  The  appointment  was 
made  before  any  consultation  had  been  held  with 
him.  It  was  the  result  of  the  high  appreciation  in 
which  his  character  and  talents  w^re  held  in  Geor- 
gia. He  declined  the  professorship,  however. 
About  the  same  time  the  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Divinity  was  conferred  upon,  him  by  the  Trustees  of 
Augusta  College,  Kentucky.  In  reference  to  this, 
he  made  the  following  statement,  a  year  or  two 
afterward,  to  Dr.  R.  Paine:  "The  title  was  con- 
ferred on  me  without  my  knowledge,  by  a  young 
college,  and  one  of  our  own ;  and  out  of  delicacy 
toward  the  college,  as  well  as  that  a  great  deal  was 
made  out  of  Mr.  Beman  and  Mr.  Cox's  having  de- 
clined the  same  title  about  the  same  time,  I  thought 
it  best  to  be  silent;  but  I  must  confess  I  have 
never  been  quite  satisfied  with  myself  in  that 
matter." 

The  reader  is  aware  that  bad  health  had  pre- 


804  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

vented  the  completion  of  Dr.  Capers's  college  train- 
ing. In  the  ceaseless,  miscellaneous  duties  of  a 
travelling  preacher  he  had  found  little  opportunity 
for  severe,  systematic  study.  He  was  far  more  a 
man  of  vigorous,  original  thought  than  a  man  of 
books.  He  appreciated  high  scholarship,  and  his 
taste  was  exquisite ;  hut  he  made  no  pretensions  to 
a  learning  which  nothing  but  years  of  patient, 
laborious  study  can  bestow.  Genius,  withal,  has 
some  perilous  gifts  in  her  dower— vivacity,  fluency, 
quickness  of  apprehension,  and  opulence  of  fancy. 
These  are  too  often  depended  on  in  youth,  and 
made  to  supply  the  place  of  that  mental  drill  which 
alone  carries  the  powers  to  their  complete  and 
ultimate  development,  and  makes  the  intellectual 
character  teres  et  roiundus.  The  subject  of  this 
memoir  was  a  man  of  action,  a  man  of  keen  and 
quick  observation,  of  profound  and  original  reflec- 
tion ;  he  was  indebted  to  books  for  but  little  of  his 
distinction.  Had  he  been  a  hard  student,  it  can 
scarcely  be  questioned  that  his  mental  grasp  would 
have  been  wider,  and  his  influence  greater. 

In  the  autumn  of  1830,  Dr.  Capers  had  a  severe 
attack  of  illness,  taken  while  attending  a  camp- 
meeting  in  the  Cypress  Circuit.  After  a  sick  night 
he  set  out  at  the  break  of  day  on  Monday  morning, 
hoping  to  reach  his  home  in  Charleston  that  night, 
a  distance  of  fifty  miles.  He  drove  the  whole  dis- 
tance without  stopping  for  refreshment.  On  his 
arrival  he  was  nearly  exhausted;  and  when  Mrs. 
Capers  made  some  exclamation  of  surprise  at  his 


DANGEROUS    ILLNESS.  305 

looking  so  ill,  he  said,  "I  am  feeling  badly,  but 
my  poor  horse  must  be  attended  to."  While  he 
was  in-the  yard  superintending  the  rubbing  of  his 
horse,  and  giving  directions  for  the  proper  care  of 
him,  Mrs.  Capers  sent  for  the  family  physician, 
Dr.  Dickson,  without  his  knowledge.  When  the 
Doctor  came,  he  expressed  the  pleasure  he  always 
felt  at  meeting  him,  but  regretted  that  his  wife 
should  be  so  easily  frightened.  ''I  am  very  glad 
she  has  sent  for  me,"  Dr.  Dickson  replied;  "for 
there  is  no  time  to  lose  in  your  case."  He  was 
immediately  put  under  active  treatment ;  but  so 
violent  was  the  fever  that  for  several  weeks  his  life 
seemed  to  hang  in  the  balance,  when  a  feather's 
weight  on  the  fatal  side  would  have  terminated  his 
course  of  usefulness  on  earth.  Every  possible  atten- 
tion was  showed  him,  and  a  deep  and  general  soli- 
citude rwas  felt  for  him  in  the  community.  As  the 
crisis  of  the  disease.  appi:oached,  he  expressed  a 
calm  but  firm  reliance  on  Christ ;  he  spoke  in 
touching  terms  of  his  unworthiness ;  gave,  as  was 
supposed,  his  dying- charge  to  his  sorrowing  wife, 
and  his  last  farewell  to  his  weeping  children. 
There  was  not  the  rapture  and  exultation  which 
marked  a  former  illness,  when  he  requested  Mrs. 
Capers  to  write  down,  as  he  dictated,  the  following 
couplet: 

*'  0  may  I  joy  in  all  his  life, 

And  shout  the  Cross  in  death !" 

" Give  me  the  paper,"  he  said;  "I  wish  to  draw  a 
line  under  the  words, 


306 


LIFE   OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


"And  shout  the  Cross  in  death,'' 

repeating  the  expression  several  times.  But  on 
the  occasion  now  describing,  more  of  solemn  awe 
and  calm  confidence  in  the  Redeemer,  than  of 
rapturous  exultation,  marked  his  spirit.  Mrs. 
Capers  was  kneeling  at  his  bedside,  with  one  of 
his'  hands  clasped  in  both  of  hers.  The  present 
writer,  then  stationed  in  Charleston,  stood  at  his 
head  bathing  his  forehead  with  ice-water,  when  a 
venerable  African,  Castile  Selby,  one  of  the  holiest 
and  best  men  of  the  colored  charge  in  the  city,  a 
class-leader  of  long  standing,  and  highly  respected 
by  Dr.  Capers,  came  into  the  chamber  of  death. 
"I-  am  glad  to  see  you.  Father  Castile,"  said  Dr. 
Capers :  "  you  find  me  near  my  end,  but  kneel 
down  and  turn  your  face  to  the  wall,  and  pray  for 
me;  and  all  of  yOu  pray."  Castile's  prayer  was 
memorable ;  full  of  humble  submission  to  the 
Divine  will,  but  full  of  pleading,  mighty  faith  in 
the  great  Mediator.  He  asked  of  God,  the  giver 
of  life,  that  the  life  of  his  beloved  pastor  might  be 
spared  to  the  Church.  This  prayer  was  memorable, 
too,  in  its  immediate  results.  The  first  words  from 
the  sick  minister  after  its  close  were :  "  I  feel 
better."  Shortly  after.  Dr.  Dickson  made  his 
morning  visit,  and  pronounced  the  crisis  past.  A 
rapid  convalescence  ensued,  and  he  was  soon  in  the 
pulpit  again. 

The  account  given  of  Henry  Evans,  of  Fayette- 
ville,  by  Dr.  Capers  in  his  Eecollections,  has  been 
read,  no  doubt,  with  interest.    We  are  able  to  pre- 


CASTILE  SELBY. 


807 


gent,  through  the  kindness  of  the  Rev.  TJ.  Sinclair 
Bird,  several  interesting  particulars  of  Castile 
Selby,  written  for  him  by  Dr.  Capers.  He  became 
acquainted  with  Castile  in  1811.  He  says  of  him : 
"  I  can  call  to  mind  no  other  person  of  our  colored 
society  of  that  early  day,  who,  of  nearly  Castile's 
age,  was  esteemed  as  much  as  he,  though  there 
were  some  very  worthy  men  among  them.  The 
weight  and  force  of  his  character  was  made  up  of 
humility,  sincerity,  simplicity,  integrity,  and  con- 
sistency ;  for  all  which  he  was  remarkable,  not  only 
among  his  fellows  of  the  colored  society  in  Charles- 
ton, but,  I  might  say,  among  all  whom  I  have  ever 
known.  He  was  one  of  those  honest  men  who 
need  no  proof  of  it.  one  who  saw  him  could 
suspect  him.  Disguise  or  ecjuivocation  lurked  no- 
where about  him.  Just  what  he  seemed  to  be,  that 
he  invariably  was — neither  less  nor  more.  Add  to 
this  a  thorough  piety,  (which  indeed  was  the  root 
and  stock  of  all  his  virtues,)  and  you  will  find  ele- 
ments enough  for  the  character  of  no  common 
man ;  and  such  was  Castile  Selby.  Let  me  men- 
tion some  particular  characteristics  which  distin- 
guished him.  I  notice  his  love  of  order — order, 
not  in  the  sense  of  regularity  only,  but  of  a  prime 
law  of  society,  giving  to  it  symmetry,  consistency, 
and  permanence.  It  was  evidently  a  ruling  prin- 
ciple with  daddy  Castile.  'Not  only  was  the  house 
he  lived  in,  and  the  few  inferior  articles  of  furniture 
which  it  contained,  kept  in  order,  that  is,  clean  and 
to  rights,  but  there  was  order  in  that  old  tarpaulin 


308  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


liat,  and  well-patched  linsey-woolsey  coat,  which 
marked  the  old  cartman  as  he  trudged  the  streets 
from  day  to  day,  with  his  old  bay-horse  and  well- 
worn  cart,  hauling  wood.  And  then  there  was  order 
in  that  clean,  unpatched,  but  still  linsey-woolsey 
coat,  and  that  blue  striped  handkerchief  tied  about 
his  head,  in  which  he  was  to  be  seen  at  the  house 
of  God,  morning,  afternoon,  and  evening,  oh  the 
Sabbath  day.  And  I  will  add  that  a  love  of  order 
had  a  full  share  in  his  seeming  indifference  to  cold 
and  wet,  plpng  his  cart  as  diligently  in  inclement 
weather  as  if  it  had  been  fair  and  pleasant.  If  I 
ever  knew  a  man  who  was  so  completely  satisfied 
with  his  condition  as  to  prefer  no  change  whatever, 
that  man  was  Castile  Selby.  His  dwelling  might 
have  been  better,  his  Apparel  better,  and  he  might 
have  relieved  himself  of  much  fatigue  and  exposure, 
but  he  deemed  it  unbecoming.  On  these  and  kin- 
dred subjects  I  knew  his  feelings  well,  having  had 
much  conversation  T\dth  him,  and  telling  him 
plainly  that  I  thought  him  wrong.  But  I  could  not 
convince  him,  while  he  satisfied  me  that  he  Was 
governed  by  a  sense  of  duty,  the  fitness  and  force 
of  which  he  was  better  prepared  to  judge  of  than 
perhaps  I  was.  For  example  :  IS'oticing  the  mean- 
ness of  his  clothing,  and  expressing  a  fear  that  it 
might  not  be  comfortable,  'ITo,  master,' -he  has 
said,  Hhese  old  clothes  make  me  quite  comfort- 
able. They  just  suit  my  business,  and  so  they  just 
suit  me.'  Remarking  on  his  Sunday  clothes,  that 
he  might  improve  them  a  little,  'Ah,  sir,'  he  has 


CASTILE  SELBY. 


809 


answered,  ^  don't  you  see  how  our  colored  people 
are  turning  fools  after  dress  and,  fashion,  just  as  if 
they  were  white  ?  They  want  somebody  to  hold 
them  back.  I  dress  for  my  color.  And  besides 
that,  master,  how  can  I  take  what  the  Lord  is 
pleased  to  give  me  to  do  some  little  good  with,  and 
p«t  it  on  my  back  ?' . 

"  But  it  was  his  indefatigable  industry,  not  allow- 
ing of  a  reasonable  suspension  of  his  labors  in  bad 
weather,  which  most  frequently  induced  our  friendly 
disputes.  For  a  number  of  years  occasion  was  fre- 
quently offered  for  these ;  and  though  I  never  could 
convince  him,  and  he  persevered  -  in  his  habits  to 
the  last  of  life,  I  seldom  let  an  opportunity  slip 
.without  some  words  of  remonstrance.  I  wish  I 
could  give  you  an  exact  representation  of  some  of 
these  disputes.  Exact  I  could  not  make  it,  and  yet 
I  think  I  can  call  up  what  may  interest  you.  Let 
me  try : 

"  ^"Well,  well,  Father  Castile  !  Out  again  in  the 
rain  vdth  that  old  coat !  Why  in  the  world  will 
you  expose  yourself  so?  And  are  not  your  legs 
swelled,  even  now?' 

"  'Ah,  master,  I  thought  you  would  scold  if  you 
happened  to  meet  me.  But  no  matter,  master ; 
the  rain  won't  hurt  me,  I  am  used  to  it.' 

"  '  But  it  icill  hurt  you  ;  it  must  hurt  you.  And  I 
dare  say  those  swelled  legs  came  by  just  such 
exposure  as  this.  You  ought  to  be  at  home ;  and 
do  pray,  now,  go  home  and  keep  yourself  comforts 
able.' 


310 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


" '  For  your  sake,  sir,  I  would  go  home,  but 
several  families  are  looking  for  me  to  haul  them 
wood  to-day,  and  I  must  not  disappoint  them.' 

"  'And  who  will  haul  them  wood  after  you  have 
killed  yourself?' 

" '  I  won't  kill  myself,  sir ;  I  have  been  used  to  this 
all  my  life,  and  use,  as  you  know,  is  second  nature. 
I  never  find  myself  any  better  for  lying  up.  But, 
master,  a'n't  you  out  too  V 

"  '  Yes,  I  am ;  but  it  is  only  for  a  little  time,  and 
I  am  fully  protected ;  but  here  you  are  regularly  at 
it  for  a  day's  work,  with  no  protection  from  the 
weather  but  your  hat,  and  that  threadbare  blanket 
overcoat.  You  really  ought  to  go  home.  Think 
you  that  the  second  nature  you  talk  about  can 
make  an  old  infirm  man  like  you  young  again? 
You  can't  stand  it.  Father  Castile,  and  you  ough't 
not  to  try  to  stand  it.    Do  pray  go  home.' 

"  'Ah,  master !  They  saj,  "  Better  wear  out  than 
rust  out.''  There  are  too  many  lazy  people  rusting 
out,  for  me  to  lie  up  because  it  rains  a  little.  By- 
and-by  they'll  say,  "  Castile  is  lazy  too ;"  or  "  Cas-  % 
tile  is  turned  gentleman,  and  can't  wet  his  foot;" 
and  what  can  I  say  ?  If  they  are  negroes,  so  am 
I.  If  they  ought  to  work,  I  ought  to  work  too.  I 
can't  help  working,  master,  and  I  don't  want  to 
help  it.  It  is  the  lot  it  has  pleased  God  to  give  me, 
and  it  suits  me  best.' 

"As  the  infirmities  of  age  increased  on  my  old 
friend,  while  his  habits  of  continual  industry  seemed 
indomitable,  I  became  anxious  about  him ;  and 


CASTILE  SELBY. 


811 


aftep,  conversing  with  several  of  our  brethren,  and 
finding  them  of  my  own  mind  with  respect  to  him, 
I  determined  to  adopt  a  course  which  I  supposed 
must  prove  eflectual.  I  told  him  that  while  his 
long  course  of  holy  living  had  made  him  friends  of 
the  principal  members  of  the  church,  who  shared 
with  me  the  kindest  feelings  for  him,  and  were 
more  than  willing  to  provide  for  all  his  wants,  it 
placed  him  in  a  position  with  respect  to  the  colored 
society  which  we  thought  required,  both  for  him- 
self and  them,  that  his  time  should  be  differently 
employed  from  what  it  had  been.  We  were  fully 
persuaded  that  it  was  our  duty  to  rescue  him  from 
his  cart,  and  put  it  in  his  power  to  employ  all  his 
time  in  a  way  which  we  believed  would  prove  more 
to  the  glory  of  God ;  and  that  was,  (while  he  should 
be  able  to  go  about,)  to  visit  the  sick,  aged,  and 
infirm,  and  look  after  the  flock  generally,  praying 
with  them,  and  doing  them  all  the  spiritual  good 
in  his  power.  For  his  comfortable  support  during 
the  remainder  of  his  life,  such  and  such  reliable 
gentlemen  would  pledge  themselves,  I  would  pledge 
myself,  and  the  stewards  of  the  church  would  see 
that  he  lacked  nothing.  'ITow,  my  old  friend,' 
said  I,  '  we  want  you  to  sell  your  horse  and  cart 
immediately,  and  use  the  money  as  you  think  pro- 
per ;  you  shall  want  for  nothing ;  and  let  it  be  your 
only  business  to  help  all  the  souls  -  you  can  to 
heaven.'  He  received  this  proposition  with  pro- 
found sensibility  and  many  thanks ;  but  could  be 
induced  only  to  add  that  he  would  think  of  it.  It 


312  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

was  just  before  my  journey  to  attend  General  .Con- 
ference ;  and  on  my  return  to  Charleston,  I  had 
scarcely  reached  my  door  before  I  saw  Castile 
Selby,  just  as  aforetime,  seated  on  his  throne,  the 
old  cart.  'Ah,  master,'  said  he,  'the  very  thing 
you  would  do  for  me  to  make  me  useful,  would 
hinder  more  than  it  would  help  me.  It  would  make 
some  envious ;  some  would  call  me  parson,  and  say 
the  white  people  had  spoiled  me;  and  nobody 
would  take  me  to  be  the  same  Castile  I  have  always 
been.  There  is  nothing  better  for  me  than  this 
same  old  cart.'  " 

At  the  beginning  of  the  year  1830,  the  South 
Carolina  Conference  was  divided,  the  Georgia  Con- 
ference set  ofl*  and  the  Savannah  river  made  the 
dividing  line.  At  the  close  of  the  year  Dr.  Capers 
completed  his  quadrennial  term  on  the  Charleston 
District.  During  the  four  years  there  had  been  an 
accession  to  the  membership  of  the  Church  within 
the  bounds  of  the  district,  of  one  thousand  one 
hundred  and  forty-nine  whites,  and  two  thousand 
two  hundred  and  forty-nine  colored. 

His  next  station  was  Columbia.  It  was  soon 
found  that  the  crowds  attracted  by  his  eloquent 
preaching  made  it  necessary  to  have  a  larger  church. 
Arrangements  were  accordingly  made  for  the  erec- 
tion of  a  brick  edifice,  of  which,  in  the  course  of 
the  summer,  he  laid  the  corner-stone. 

Dr.  Thomas  Cooper  was  at  this  time  the  President 
of  the  State  College  at  Columbia ;  a  man  of  large 
scientifi-C  acquirements  and  vigorous  intellect,  but 


DR.    THOMAS  COOPER. 


313 


understood  to  be  skeptical  in  liis  opinions  on 
religion.  The  fortunes  of  the  college  were  waning 
under  his  administration,  as  Christian  sentiment  in 
the  country  arrayed  itself  against  an  institution 
which,  it  was  feared,  was  becoming  the  arida  nutrix 
of  infidel  principles.  This  probably  gave  addi- 
tional exasperation  to  the  learned  President,  and 
sharpened  the  edge  of  his '  invective  against  the 
clergy.  Early  in  May,  Dr.  Cooper  sent  a  copy  of 
his  last  Commencement  address,  printed  and  pub- 
lished at  the  request  of  the  senior  class,  to  Dr. 
Capers,  accompanied  with  a  polite  letter  in  which 
he  said :  "I  feel  desirous  that  my  invectives  against 
a  ntoney-seeking,  hireling  ministry,  may  not  be 
understood  as  applying  to  the  ministers  of  the 
Methodist  persuasion,  whose  very  moderate  re- 
ceipts, as  a  pecuniary  compliment  from  their  con- 
gregations, have  never  been  considered  by  me  in 
the  light  of  a  compensation  ;  and  because  the  ambi- 
tious projects  of  some  of  the  clergy  to  establish  a 
union  between  Church  and  State  (of  which,  I  regret 
to  say,  I  have  undeniable  proofs)  are  by  no  means 
participated  in,  or  in  any  degree  approved,  by  the 
leadera  of  your  persuasion.  When  I  find  myself 
mistaken  in  this  opinion,  my  present  respect  for 
the. Methodists  will  be  greatly  lessened.  At  pre- 
sent, I  hope  and  believe,  they  are  fully  deserving 
not  merely  of  my  personal  approbation,  for  their 
praiseworthy  and  quiet  demeanor,  and  absence 
from  all  political  intermeddling,  but  they  have 
earned  also,  and  enjoy,  the  respect  and  approbation 
14 


314 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


of  the  public.  Witli  John  and  Charles  Wesley, 
and  the  two  sons  of  the  latter,  I  was  well  acquainted 
in  my  early  day,  and  a  visitor  in  the  family  of  the 
latter.  During  my  occasional  intercourse  with  that 
great  and  good  man,  John  "Wesley,  I  was  fully 
persuaded,  from  much  personal  observation,  that  he 
received  from  his  hearers  food  and  clothing  and  a 
horse,  and  no  more.  I  knew  his  habits,  and  I 
know,  too,  that  he  died  in  circumstances  fully  con- 
firming his  oft-repeated  declaration,  that  if  he  left 
behind  him  at  his  death  more  than  ten  pounds, 
when  his  funeral  expenses  were  paid,  the  world 
might  consider  him  a  thief  and  a  robber.  A  sect 
organized  by  such  a  man,  so  thinking  and  so 
acting,  is  not  likely  to  be  over-anxious  either  for 
wealth  or  power." 

The  letter  concluded  with  sincere  assurances  of 
good-will  and  great  respect. 

Dr.  Capers  made  suitable  acknowledgments  in 
reply;  but  took  occasion,  with  becoming  respect, 
to  suggest  that  it  appeared  to  him  that  the  public 
would  be  apt  to  consider  the  invectives  of  the 
address  as  levelled  against  the  clergy  of  all  sects ; 
and  that  against  a  public  implication  it  might  be 
improper  for  him  to  acknowledge  a  private  exemp- 
tion, further  than  as  a  compliment  to  an  individual. 

To  this  Dr.  Cooper  replied :  "I  do  not  see  how  I 
can  publicly  express  my  opinion  that  a  hireling 
ministry  is  a  term  not  applicable  to  the  teachers 
and  preachers  of  your  persuasion ;  but  you  are  at 
full  liberty  to  use  my  letter  as  you  see  fit." 


LETTER   TO   DR.    COOPER.  315 

In  a  subsequent  letter,  Dr.  Cooper  expressed  him- 
self frankly  in  respect  to  his  own  religious  opin- 
ions. He  thought  that  the  leaning  of  the  doctrines 
of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  Apostle  John,  was  in 
favor  of  those  opinions:  whether  they  could  be 
reconciled  to  the  notions  of  St.  Paul,  *'the  great, 
corrupter  of  Christianity,"  as  he  thought,  he  could 
not  affirm.  His  opinions,  at  least,  had  cost  him 
much  hard  study  and  anxious  inquiry. 

The  following  admirable  passage  closed  a  long 
letter,  in  return,  from  Dr.  Capers:  "With  respect 
to  your  opinion  of  Christian  doctrine,  I  have 
nothing  to  remark  in  the.wa-y  of  controversy.  I 
am  fully  persuaded  that  neither  metaphysics  nor 
logic  ever  made  or  can  make  a  true  Christian. 
The  way  to  Christ,  who  is  the  Saviour  of  all  men, 
must  be  level  and  accessible  to  all.  '  Jesus  answered 
and  said,  I  thank  thee,  0  Father,  Lord  of  heaven 
and  earth,  because  thou. hast  hid  these  things  from 
the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast  revealed  them  unto 
babes.'  And  again  :  ^If  any  man  will  do  his  will, 
he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine,  whether  it  be  of  God, 
or  whether  I  speak  of  myself.'  I  forbear  a  quota- 
tion from  St.  Paul;  but  allow  me  to  express  my 
regret  that  you  should  consider  him  Hhe  great 
corrupter  of  Christianity.'  Alas,  sir,  ^if  the  found- 
ations be  destroyed,  what  can  the  righteous  do?' 
Suffer  me  thus  far,  and  let  me  add,  out  of  an  honest 
heart,  the  following  sentiments.  Of  all  men, 
merely  man,  who  have  ever  lived,  I  most  admire 
that  one,  who  (the  plenary  inspiration  of  the 


316 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


apostle  aside)  gave  the  highest  evidence  of  a 
disinterested  and  unlimited  devotion  to  the  will  of 
God  and  the  good  of  mankind ;  who  followed  the 
light  of  Heaven  without  faltering,  though  it  led 
him  to  a  distance  from  every  worldly  interest,  to 
take  for  his  daily  fare  hunger  and  thirst,  bonds  and 
imprisonment,  stripes,  stoning,  and  death;  and 
who,  more  than  any  other,  was  honored  of  God  as 
an  instrument  of  spreading  abroad  the  unsearchable 
riches  of  Christ." 


t 

MISS   JANE   A.    FAUST.  317 


CHAPTEE  VI. 


Miss  Jane  A.  Faust — Miss  Maxwell— An  awakening  sermon — Rhymes 
— Dr.  Capers  rfemoves  to  Charleston — General  Conference  of  1832 
— Is  offered  the  Presidency  of  LaGrange  College. 

In  the  circle  of  young,  admiring,  loving  friends 
whom  Dr.  Capers  drew  around  him  in  Columbia, 
•was  one  whose  preeminent  worth,  intellectual  and 
moral,  won  a  high  place  in  his  esteem — Miss  Jane 
A.  Faust.  His  preaching  and  conversation  were 
eminently  adapted  to  impress  a  mind  like  hers. 
The  sentiment  of  admiration  deepened  into  a- 
serious  concern  for  her  soul;  and  she  was  led  to 
Christ,  and  found  peace  in  believing.  She  became 
a  communicant  in  the  Methodist*  Episcopal  Church 
in  the  course  of  the  next  year,  under  the  ministry 
of  the  E-ev.  Josiah  Freeman,  for  whom  also  she 
felt  a  very  high  regard.  Dr.  Capers,  a  few  years 
after  her  death,  published  in  the  Southern  Chris- 
tian Advocate  a  couple  of  brief  elegiac  poems, 
written  on  the"  occasion  of  her  early  and  lamented 
departure,  by  her  friend  Mrs.  Martin ;  prefacing 
them  by  describing  Miss  Faust  as  one  "who 
possessed  and  exercised,  especially  in  the  latter 
years  of ^her  brief  and  lovely  life,  the  highest  quali- 
fications for  making  one's  friends  happy."    He  ex- 


318  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

pressed  his  admiration  of  "  lier  genius,  accomplisli- 
ments,  sweetness  of  spirit,  devotion  to  her  friends, 
and  piety  towards  God;"  and  added:  "Miss  Faust 
never  made  a  book— she  shrank  from  publicity — 
but  I  have  known  no  one  whose  conversation  or 
letters  were  superior  if  equal  to  hers." 

From  such  a  source,  this  is  high  praise ;  but  it 
was  well  deserved.  Miss  Faust's  mind  was  by 
native  endowment  of  the  highest  order;  and  it 
was  developed  by  early,  careful,  and  varied  culture. 
E.acy,  sparkling,  and  full  of  animation,  her  con- 
versation possessed  a  charm  for  every  listener.  Its 
excellences  were  so  peculiar  that  a  public  speaker, 
desirous  of  fashioning  his  style  upon  the  best 
models,  might  have  cultivated  her  society,  on  the 
principle  which  induced  Cicero  to  resort  to  the 
•company  of  the  noble  and  refined  Eoman  matrons, 
to  perfect  his  mastery  of  the  Latin  tongue.  The 
fascination  of  her  manners  and  the  grace  of  her 
carriage  were  in  'keeping  with  her  "  winged  and 
winning  speech."  Her  eye  shone  with  the  clear 
light  of  a  serene  intellect ;  and  her  face  was  radiant 
with  the  beaming  of  sincerity  and  pure-mindedness. 
Her  look  indicated  warmth  of  heart,  and  steady 
resolve,  as  though  she  could  stand  for  the  truth, 
like  Abdiel, 

*' Amidst  revolted  multitudes,  alone." 

In  her  religious  experience  she  was  ever  watchful 
lest  well-formed  opinions  should  be  mistaken  for 
gracious  feelings,  and  a  correct  judgment  of  things 
be  allowed  to  pass  for  an  active  principle  of  piety. 


MISS    JANE    A.  FAUST. 


319 


'Her  fkith  in  Christ  rested  on  an  intelligent  per- 
ception of  the  fact  that  in  the  circumstances  of 
moral  defection  which  environ  the  human  race, 
merit  is  an  impossible  plea;  that  the  sinner  must 
be  saved  by  grace  ;  and  that  this  grace  is  "  through 
the  redemption  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus."  Away 
from  all  •  conceit  of  self-righteousness,  her  spirit 
hasted  to  the  sanctuary  whose  altar  yet  retains  the 
fragrance  of  the  sacrifice  "  once  offered"  by  the 
Victim  Divine,"  and  whose  foundation  was  hewn 
from  the  "Rock  of  Ages."  The  strength  of  her 
piety  was  tested,  and  its  loveliness  illustrated, 
amidst  manifold  physical  sufferings.  In  the  flower 
of  life  consumption  did  its  fatal  work.  In  the  last 
letter  she  ever  wrote,  when  too  feeble  to  converse 
with  the  kind  friends  who  waited  upon  her,  and 
watched  the  advance  of  the  shadow  of  death,  and 
with  strength  scarce  sufficient  to  guide  her  pen, 
she  said :  "  There  seems  to  be  much  physical  suffer- 
ing in  store  for  me ;  but  it  matters  not,  if  Christ  be 
mine.  "Washed  and  sanctified  by  his  Spirit,  (if  at 
last  it  should  be,)  the  struggles  of  frail  mortality 
will  not  affect  the  homeward  bound .  of  my  reno- 
vated spirit.  Sometimes  I  am  so  weary  of  myself 
and  sin,  so  'tempest-tossed  and  afflicted  and  not 
comforted,'  that  I  long  to  be  at  rest.  0  for  a  full, 
unwavering  trust  in  Christ  for  salvation  from  all 
sin  !  Feeble  as  my  faith  is,  how  precious  does  the 
blood  of  Christ  appear — how  sweet  the  hope  of 
pardon  he  has  purchased  for  us  !"  A  week  or  two 
after  this,  on  the  evening  of  January  2,  1834,  she 


820  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPEES. 

entered  into  her  everlasting  rest.  Witli  perfect 
composure  of  mind,  with  the  exclamation,  "Bound- 
.less  mercy,  full  and  free!"  whispered  forth  again 
and  again — her  bodily  sufferings  all  ended — death 
gently  loosed  the  bonds  of  the  frail  tabernacle,  and 
set  free  the  immortal  spirit  to  find  a  congenial 
home  in  the  abodes  of  light  and  bliss,  where  reign 
for  ever  sceptred  Mercy  and  enthroned  Love. 

Do  we  feel  to  wonder  why  powers  and  capabili- 
ties such  as  these  should  just  appear  and  then 
vanish  ?  Are  we  surprised  that  excellence  of  the 
highest  order,  fitted  to  enrich  and  adorn  human 
society,  the  embodiment  of  one's  pure  ideal  beauty, 
should  pass  away  in  its  freshest  morning  bloom  ? 
that  sojne  bright  particular  star,  the  cynosure  of 
every  admiring  eye,  should  suddenly  disappear  like 
the  lost  Pleiad?  The  intuition  of  reason,  which 
cannot  deceive  us  in  such  a  case,  is  that  a  prepa- 
ration sp  elaborate,  a  prelude  ^o  magnificent,  can- 
not thus  end,  but  must  have  a  fitting  completion. 
What  that  completion  is,  and  where  we  are  to  find 
it,  Eevelation  has  unerringly  taught.  Heaven  is 
the  magnet  which  has  drawn  to  itself  all  this  early 
loveliness  and  excellence.  The  celestial  bowers,' 
where  live  the  loved  and  lost,  supply  the  congenial 
atmosphere  for  the  expansion  of  these  high  and 
holy  qualities.  From  the  city  of  God,  the  long-lost 
friends  of  our  youth  wave  a  welcome  to  us  ; — is  it 
paying  too  much,  to  add,  that  probably  they  will  be 
the  first  to  greet  our  approach  ? 

When  Mary  poured  the  spikenard  over  the  head 


MISS  MAXWELL. 


321 


of  Jesus,  the  testimonial  of  an  adoring  love  which 
counted  nothing  too  (<p8tly,  the  tribute  of  a  vene- 
ration which  recognized  the  Lord  of  glory  in  the 
"Man  of  sorrows,"  Jesus  said:  "Wheresoever  this 
gospel  shall  bo  preached  in  the  whole  world,  there 
shall  also  this,  that  this  woman  hath  done,  be  told 
for  a  memorial  of  her."  Let  this  page  be,*  in  its 
humble  measure,  a  memento  of  one  of  Mary's  own 
sex,  as  lovely,  perchance,  .in  person,  with  a  sensi- 
bility as  tender,  an  intelligence  as  quick,  who 
exercised  faith  in  Jesus,  while  Mary  had  th6  evi- 
dence of  sense;  who  possessed  the  consummated 
truth  and  blessing  of  the  gospel,  while  Mary  stood 
only  at  the  brightening  dawn ;  who  poured  out  the 
fragrance  of  her  heart's  most  precious  affections  at 
the  feet  of  the  same  Jesus  ;  saw  in  him  the  face  of 
infinite  beauty  ;  found  in  the  mystery  of  his  tran- 
scendent love  the  theme  of  loftiest  thought  and 
ever-adoring  delight;  and  to  the  last  throb  of 
consciousness  trusted  her  all  in  his  hands — then- 
passed  on  into  the  upper  sanctuary,  to  the  bright- 
ness and  rapture  of  the  vision  for  ever. 

Among  the  young  lady  friends  of  Dr.  Capers  in 
Columbia,  was  another  who  owed  much  of  her 
religious  impressions  to  his  instrumentality — Miss 
Maxwell,  now  Mrs.  "William  Martin.  Her  own 
account  of  the  first  sermon  she  heard  frorii  him  is  as 
follows :  "His  text  was  the  sixty-seventh  Psalm, 
entire.  Kow,  for  the  first  time,  I  heard  preaching 
with  the  hearing  ear.  The  sermon  was  a  beautiful 
paraphrase  of  the  Psalm.  ^N'ever,  till  this  evening 
11 


322 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


at  churcli,  had  mj  mind  so  realized  the  might, 
majesty,  and  grandeur  of  that  God,  'glorious  in 
holiness,  fearful  in  praises,  doing  wonders.'  What 
a  new  gospel  it  appeared  to  me,  so  full  of  benefi- 
cence, love,  and  mercy !  I  had  listened  to  dis- 
courses of  learning,  eloquence,  and  fluency  before, 
but  never  before  heard  the  message  that  went 
straight  to  my  heart.  I  felt  it  was  for  me.  That 
message  I  must  hearken  to  and  obey.  It  was  im- 
perative on  me  to  do  so.  Woe  was  me,  I  felt,  if  I 
regarded  it  not.  Before,  I  had  been  convinced  of 
sin,  but  the  impression  had  been  vague,  and  had 
proved  evanescent.  'Now  I  felt  that  the  matter 
between  me  and  my  God  must  be  settled  at  once 
But  my  mind  was  still  much  clouded,  my  views 
confused,  my  thoughts  perplexed.  The  minister 
of  that  evening  was,  providentially,  a  guest  at  the 
house  of  a  mutual  friend  in  my  immediate  neigh- 
borhood. Frequently  it  was  arranged  that  I  had 
the  opportunity  of  conversing  with  him  touching 
those  things  that  would  make  for  my  peace.  How 
beautifully  he  smoothed,  and  simplified,  and 
softened  all,  till  my  difficulties  were  removed,  and 
my  way  was  clear  to  follow  Jesus  in  the  regene- 
ration !" 

This  lady  has  kindly  furnished  the  following  jeu 
d'esprit  from  the  pen  of  Dr.  Capers.  It  was  in 
answer  to  a  poetical  letter,  written  on  the  eve  of 
the  Doctor's  departure  from  Columbia,  and  bears 
date,  Charleston,  February  17,  1832 : 


MISS  MAXWELL. 


823 


"  My  dear  Margaret  : — You  must  uotbe  grieved 
tliat  the  lines  you  put  into  my  wife's  hand  so  kind- 
ly, when  I  was  leaving  Columbia,  and  one  othet  sim- 
ilar provocation,  should  rouse  me  a  little.  Some  of 
you  good  girls  have  such  a  propemsity  to  mischief, 
that  one  can  hardly  get  along  with  you  without 
fetching  a  slap  now  and  then.  I  remember  to  have 
given  Jane  (Miss  Faust)  a  sound  b6x  once  for 
something  she  said — actually  struck  her  a  blow 
on  the  shoulder — and  she  thanked  me  for  it,  ^  be- 
cause,' said  she,  'I  know  you  are  not  vexed  with 
me,  or  yoa  would  not  slap  me.' ,  As  for  your  part, 
I  dare  say  this  same  black  and  white  box  I  am 
giving  you  will  be  returned  by  a  courtesy,  and  you 
will  have  impudence  enough  to  tell  me  I  like  to  be 
flattered,  or  I  would  not  take  the  trouble  to  dis- 
claim it.  Well,  who  knows  but  I  do  like  to  be, 
when  it  is  done  so  decently  as  by  Miss  Maxwell  ? 
But  I  forewarn  you,  you  are  not  to  make  a  poetaster 
of  me.  A  poet  I  cannot  be  made  by  both  of  us 
together.  The  Fates,  if  there  be  any,  do  positively 
forbid  it.  It  is  a  great  effort  to  put  rhyme's  of  my 
forming  into  gifted  hands — or  even  into  any  hands 
at  all — and  yet  I  believe  some  very  clever  men  have 
been  guilty  of  some  very  prosing  rhymes. 

"  Yours  affectionately,  "W.  Capers.'* 

*'I  always  have  heard  that  affection  was  kind, 
And  now  I've  discovered  she  also  is  blind ; 
Puts  out  her  own  eyes  that  her  heart  may  be  free 
To  imagine  perfections  she  never  could  see. 


324  LIFE   OF   WILLIAM  CAP.ERS. 

'Tis  strange,  I  confess,  but  'tis  certainly  true, 

(1  owe  the  disc6very,  Margaret,  to  you,) 

I  have  proof  upon  proof  >of  it,  rife  and  at  hand, 

That  might  challenge  belief  all  over  the  land. 

There  lived  where  /  lived  a  girl  of  your  name, 

And  so  like  yourself  she  might  pass  for  the  same ; 

A  very  good  girl,  and  a  girl  of  much  wit, 

Except  where  I'll  tell  where  she  showed  not  a  bit. 

This  same  clever  girl  had  a  friend  whom  I  kniew, 

A  friend  as  like  me  as  she  was  like  you  ; 

A  well-meaning  man,  and  a  preacher  withal. 

Who,  besides  being  honest,  claimed  nothing  at  all, 

Except  the  rare  luck,  if  luck  it  might  be. 

To  have  friends  among  folks  that  were  better  than  he. 

Of  these — and  indeed  they  were  many  and  true — 

Was  the  girl  I  have  mentioned  as  so  much  like  you ; 

And,  as  was  thie  person,  her  friendship,  I  ween. 

Was  just  like  the  friendship  that  joins  us  between ; 

That  same  hearty  feeling  of  feeling  at  heart, 

For  better  or  worse,  each  to  take  other's  part. 

The  good  man  was  bald,  but  a  complaisant  whim 
Could  convert  even  baldness  to  beauty  for  him ; 
For  his  hair  had  but  fallen  in  grace  to  his  head. 
That  a  wreath  of  Parnassus  might  grow  in  its  stead ; 
And  the  Muses  were  there  with  their  pencils  of  fire. 
And  cymbals,  and  lutes,  and  the  sweet-sounding  lyre, 
To  crown  with  a  glory,  and  chant  to  the  skies. 
Whom,  think  ye? — Alas  for  the  sight  of  blind  eyes!" 

The  two  following  years  were  spent  in  Charles- 
ton. In  April,  1832,  he  took  ship  for  ISTew  York, 
en  route  to  Philadelphia,  the  seat  of  the  General 
Conference,  to  which  he  had  been  appointed  one 
of  the  delegates  of  the  South  Carolina  Conference. 
The  following  are  extracts  from  his  correspondence 
with  Mrs.  Capers : 


GENERAL    CONFERENCE.  325 


"New  York,  April  20,  1832. 

"After  as  pleasant  a  passage  as  a  reasonable 
man  might  hope  for,  we  arrived  here  this  morning. 
.On  the  way,  and  till  now,  I  have  had  no  symptom 
of  my  complaint,  (neuralgia,)  and  my  general 
health  is  very  good.  I  suffered,  however,  with  my 
•  unsteady  head  during  most  of  the  voyage,  and  as 
much,  nearly,  as  on  my  first  voyage  at  sea.  The 
preachers  were  very  sick  for  the  first  two  days,  ex- 
cept brotSers  Dunwody  and  Bass,  who  were  not 
sick  at  all,  but  did  justice  to  their  stomachs  from 
first  to  last.  English  and  Sinclair  suflfered  most. 
"We  had  no  storm,  nor,  indeed,  any  rough  weather. 
The  wind,  when  ahead,  was  moderate,  and .  for 
three  days  we  had  almost  a  dead  calm.  I  am 
writing  this  in  Bishop  McKendree's  room,  at  the 
house  of  brother  Francis  Hall.  The  Bishop  is  as 
well  as  I  have  seen  him  for  a  long  time.  I  have 
nothing  more  worth  telling,  just  now  having 
landed." 

''Philadelphia,  May  1. 

"  The  General  Conference  commenced  its  session 
this  morning,  and  has  entered  upon  business  under 
favorable  circumstances.  Bishops  McKendree, 
Soule,  and  Hedding  are  with  us.  Bishop  Eoberts 
has  not  yet  arrived,  but  is  dailj  expected.  Brother 
Andrew  an'd  myself  are  most  delightfully  situated 
at  brother  Longacre's,  (the  distinguished  engraver,) 
who,  and  his  charming  wife,,  are  most  kindly  and 
affectionately  careful  of  us  in  all  respects.  You 


326  LIFE    OP   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


win  not  expect  me  to  give  any  important  informa- 
tion respecting  the  transactions  of  tlie  Conference 
for  some  time  yet.  I  cannot  even  conjecture  what 
may  be  done.  "With  respect  to  any  thing  that  may 
be  thought  of  respecting  myself^  I  will  do  all  I  can 
with  a  good  conscience  to  come  back  to  Charleston 
and  Carolina  as  I  left ;  holding  still  my  motto, 

'  Let  me  be  little  and  unknown, 
Loved  and  prized  by  God  alone.'  ^ 

It  is  possible  some  efforts  will  be  made  to  place  me 
in  the  Book  Agency.  But  as  I  am  not  fashioned 
on  a  business  model,  I  can,  with  a  good  conscience, 
excuse  myself.  I  eat  enormously,  sleep  soundly, 
and  am  growing  fat ;  indeed,  I  never  felt  myself  in 
better  health,  though  perhaps  I  have  been  stronger 
than  at  present." 

"Philadelphia,  May  12. 

"Since  my  last* we  have  not  carried  through 
much  business  to  its  final  termination ;  but  much 
has  been  brought  into  Conference,  and  is  under 
consideration.  The  resolution  I  drew  up  'at  home 
respecting  the  regular  and  full  publication  of  the 
pecuniary  transactions  of  the  Annual  Conferences, 
so  far  as  relates  to  the  deficiencies  of  the  preachers, 
and  the  widows  and  orphans  of  preachers,  has 
passed  without  op$)Osition.  The  Committee  on 
Bibles,  Tracts,  and  Sunday-school  Books,  adopted, 
and  have  reported,  a  series  of  resolutions  which  I 
prepared;  and,  what  is  gratifying,  without  one 
word  from  me  in  support  of  them.    I  feel  pretty 


GENERAL    CONFERENCE.  327 

confident  I  shall  escape  all  other  honors  but  that 
desirable  one  of  helping  some  little  towards  the 
accomplishment  of  the  business  of  the  Church  on 
which  we  are  met.  I  have  it  not  yet  in  my  power  to 
say  how  many  Bishops  we  shall  elect,  or  who  will 
be  the  men.  It  think  it  pretty  well  ascertained,  or 
at  least  enough  so  to  authorize  a  guess,  that  if  but 
one  Bishop  be  elected,  he  will  be  brother  Andrew 
or  Dr.  Emory.  If  two,  these  will  be  the  men. 
But  if  three,  the  guess  for  the  third  is  uncertain. 
Most  of  the  ITorthern  brethren  say  they  consider 
we  ought  to  have  a  Bishop  at  the  South,  and  will 
vote  for  brother  Andrew  on  our  recommendation 
as  the  man.  With'fespect  to  having  a  paper  at 
Charleston,  I  think  the  chance  rather  doubtful. 
But  I  am  glad  to  say  there  is  a  good  prospect  of 
getting  brother  Durbin  as  editor  of  the  Christian 
Advocate  and  Journal,  in  whose  hands  the  paper 
will  not  be  liable  to  any  objections  from  the  South." 

"Philadelphia,  May  18. 

"I  WRITE  this  chiefly  because  I  know  you  will 
look  for  frequent  information  respecting  my  health, 
which  was  never  better  than  at  jpresent.  With  re- 
gard to  the  Conference,  you  would  probably  feel  no 
special  interest  in  the  acts  we  have  passed  since  I 
spoke  of  it,  except,  perhaps,  a  vote  for  making  two 
additional  Bishops.  Who  they  will  be,  we  yet 
know  not.  The  expectation,  however,  is  in  favor 
of  brothers  Andrew  and  Emory.  I  fear  the  speech- 
making  fever,  which  I  hoped,  but  in  vain,  would 


328  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

subside  as  the  Conference  progressed,  may  protract 
our  session  to  the  close  of  the  month  almost.  If 
any  appointment  should  be  urged  upon  me  at  this 
General  Conference,  it  may  ])ossihly  be  the  editor- 
ship of  the  Advocate.  That,  at  least,  is  one  which 
I  judge  most  important  to  the  South,  and  to  which 
fewest  objections  on  a  personal  account  might  be 
made.  You  are  not  to  expect  I  shall  be  put  into 
this  editorship.  Expect  the  reverse,  and  that  old 
Charleston,  good  old  Charleston,  will  be  our  place 
for  awhile.  It  may  occur,  however,  as  a  pos- 
sible event,  if  it  appear  that  we  cannot  get  a  suit- 
able man,  wdth  kind  feelings  towards  Southern 
interests,  that  I  may  have  to  go  to  l!Tew  York." 

"Philadelphia,  May  21. 

"Ix  my  last,  after  telling  you  that  you  might 
dismiss  all  apprehension  of  my  being  put  into  the 
editorship  at  ]^ew  York,  I  had  to  say  that  such  a 
disposition  of  me  was  not  altogether  impossible, 
though  I  believed  it  altogether  imjprohahle.  I  have 
all  along  maintained  the  course  I  had  taken,  to 
keep  myself  aloof  from  any  thing  like  a  disposition 
to  seek,  or  a  readiness  to  accept,  any  situation  in 
the  election  of  the  General  Conference ;  and  still  I 
think  I  shall  escape,  and  get  back  to  my  own  dear 
South  Carolina  as  I  came.  But  during  to-day, 
there  has  appeared  a  disposition  to  press  me  a 
little,  and  I  have  had  to  say  to  our  delegation  from 
South  Carolina,  that  if  they,  who  knew  best  how 
to  judge  of  the  necessity,  or  otherwise,  of  my  re- 


BISHOPS   ANDREW   AND   EMOR^.  329 

maining  in  South  Carolina,  thought,  after  due  de- 
liberation, that  I  plight  be  more  usefully  employed 
for  the  Church  at  'New  York,  they  might  speak  of 
me  as  they  judged  proper.  I  do  not  expect  to  be 
put  into  the  place,  and  the  less  because  I  have  not 
been  sooner  put  forward ;  or,  as  I  ought  rather  to 
say,  my  name  has  not  been,  for  as  to  myself,  I  am, 
and  expect  to  be,  wholly  withdrawn  from  every 
thing  like  a  movement  towards  such  a  disposition 
.of  myself." 

"  Mat  22. 

"  We  have  just  finished  the  election  for  Bishops. 
Brother  Andrew  and  Dr.  Emory  are  elected.  The 
number  of  votes  was  two  hundred  and  seventeen, 
making  the  majority  one  hundred  and  nine. 
Andrew  got  one  hundred  and  forty  votes,  and 
Emory  one  hundred  and  thirty-five,  on  the  first  ballot, 
and  were  thus  handsomely  elected  at  the  fia^st  trial. 
I  think  you  need  not  be  anxious  about  the  editor- 
ship." 

Dr.  Capers  very  fortunately  escaped  the  honor 
and  responsibility  of  being  made  Editor  of  the 
Christian  Advocate  and  Journal.  In  his  circum- 
stances, and  with  his  keen  sensibilities,  the  post 
would,  in  all  likelihood,  have  been  painfully  un- 
comfortable, aside  altogether  from  the  necessity  of 
a  residence  in  a  distant  State.  The  unreserved  ex- 
pression of  his  opinions  in  regard  to  the  matter, 
presented  in  the  foregoing  confidential  correspond- 


330         'LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


eiice  with  his  wife,  shows  the  true  nature  of  the  man, 
and  sets  in  a  fine  light  his  scrupulous  delicacy  in 
regard  to  office. 

In  September  of  this  year,  Dr.  Paine,  President 
of  LaGrange  College,  Alabama,  in  a  letter  inform- 
ing Dr.  Capers  of  the  election  of  his  son-in-law, 
the  Rev.  W.  H.  Ellison,  to  a  professorship  in  that 
college,  stated  his  own  desire  to  leave  the  institu- 
tion, in  order  to  enter  upon  the  more  active  duties 
of  the  itinerant  field.  He  added,  however,  that  the 
trustees  were  reluctant  to  release  him  unless-  they 
could  find  one  competent  and  willing  to  take  the 
presidency.  He  therefore  applied  to  Dr.  Capers  to 
know  whether  he  could  be  prevailed  on  to  accept 
that  post.  To  this  application  Dr.  Capers  yielded 
at  first  a  reluctant  consent,  stating  that,  whatever 
his  private  views  of  his  own  fitness  might  be,  he 
would  not  hold  himself  absolved  from  the  bidding 
of  the  Church ;  and  that  if  the  Presiding  Bishop 
at  the  next  session  of  the  South  Carolina  Confer- 
ence should  judge  it  best,  for  the  general  interests 
of  the  Church,  to  sanction  his  acceptance  of  the 
office,  and  transfer  him  to  the  Tennessee  Confer- 
ence, he  would  be  ready  to  obey.  A  few  weeks' 
reflection  on  the  subject,  however,  changed  his 
views.  His  embarrassment  lay  in  his  own  appre- 
hension of  want  of  scholastic  qualifications.  "For 
this  cause,"  he  says,  "I  must  beg  to  decline  the 
appointment.  Could  I  fulfil  *in  the  South-west* 
the  part,  or  something  like  the  part,  of  *  Dr.  Fisk 
in  the  ]N^orth-east' — could  I  by  accepting  your  call 


DECLINES  PRESIDENCY  OF  COLLEGES.  331 

build  Tip  the  cause  of  Christian  literature  in  that 
interesting  portion  of  our  Church  and  'country, 
most  gladly  would  I  undertake  it.  But  alas !  I 
am  not  what  you  suppose  me  to  be ;  and  were  I  to 
attempt  to  stretch  ^myself  to  the  height  of  your  kind 
opinion,  it  would  only  result  in  extreme  mortifica- 
tion to  both  of  us." 

•  Similar  applications  were  subsequently  made  to 
him  in  regard  to  the  Presidency  of  the  University 
of  Louisiana,  and  that  of  Randolph  Macon  College, 
Virginia ;  but  he  declined  in  both  instances. 


332 


LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Hospitality — Rev.  Jolm  Hutchinson  —  The  little  mail-carrier  and 
the  overcoat  —  Outlay  of  benevolence  speedily  returned  and 
doubled. 

"Given  to  hospitality" — a  lover  of  strangers — 
this  is  one  of  the  marks  of  a  'New  Testament 
Bishop.  The  virtue  inculcated  in  these  terms  was 
exercised  by  Dr.  Capers,  to  the  full  extent  of  his 
means.  Scarcely  a  day  went  by  without  witness- 
ing some  accession  to*  his  family  circle,  at  one  or 
other  of  the  meals.  The  native  bent  of  his  disposi- 
,  tion,  his  early  domestic  training,  as  well  as  his 
prominent  position  in  the  Church,  made  his  hospi- 
tality a  notable  trait  in  his  character.  Preachers 
from  a  distance,  in  quest  of  health,  particularly  if 
they  were  supposed  to  be  in  narrow  circumstances, 
were  welcome  to  his  house,  and  made  to  feel  per- 
fectly at  home,  and  entertained  for  weeks.  In  all 
this,  he  was  cordially  seconded  and  sustained  by 
his  wife — one  of  the  most  amiable  of  her  sex,  who 
never  seemed  to  regard  for  a  moment  any  personal 
trouble  which  might  be  entailed  upon  her  by  the 
open-handed  hospitalities  of  her  husband.  One  out 
of  a  multitude  of  instances  illustrating  this  feature 


• 


HOSPITALITY.         ,  333 

in  the  character  of  Dr.  Capers,  is  furnished  hy  the 
Rev.  H.  A.  C.  Walker,  one  of  his  colleagues  in  1833, 
in  the  following  incident : 

"In  the  year  1833,"  says  Mr.  Walker,  "I  lived 
in  the  family  of. Dr.  Capers,  in-  Charleston.  In 
the  autumn  of  the  year,  the  Kev.  Mr.  Parrish,  of 
one  of  the  JSTorthern  Conferences,  came  to  Dr.  C.'s, 
being  on  a  Southern  tour  seeking  relief  from  con- 
sumption.. He  sojourned  with  us  for  ten  days  or  a 
fortnight,  if  I  remember  correctly,  and  was  greatly 
pleased,  as  well  he  •  might  be.  The  Doctor  had  a 
sort  of  half  pony  horse,  which,  in  connection  with 
a  gig  and  a  saddle,  had  done  good  service  in  aiding 
us  in  the  preaching  and  pastoral  work  of  the 
station,  through  the  summer  especially.  But  the 
year  was  drawing  to  a  close,  and  as  it  was  the 
Doctor's  second  year  in  the  city,  and  he  could  not 
therefore  be  returned,  he  and  his  faithful  '  Bill' 
must  part.  It  was  known  that  he  was  for  sale.  A 
purchaser  appeared,  and  a  fair  offer  was  made.  It 
occurred  to  Mr.  Parrish  that  on  that  horse  he  could 
wander  through  the  country  as  he  pleased.  He  so 
said  to  Dr.  Capers,  but  his  funds  were  low.  '  If  he 
will  serve  you,'  said  the  Doctor,  'you  may  have 
horse,  saddle,  and  bridle  for  forty  dollars;  and 
I  am  only  sorry  I  cannot  afford  to  put  him 
lower  still.'  This  was  far  below  the  value  of  the 
horse.  He  was  sold ;  and  the  grateful  invalid 
mounted  the  trusty  animal  and  set  oft'.  In  my  next 
year's  circuit,  I  heard  of  'brother  Parrish,'  for  he 
had  travelled  and  sojourned  among  the  people,  and 


334  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM    CAPERS.  , 

of  tlie  '  great  bargain  brother  Capers  bad  given  him 
in  that  horse !'  Mr.  Parrish  seemed  to  have  told 
it  everywhere  with  grateful  exultation.  I  heard 
afterwards,  that  after  much  wandering,  the  hofse 
bore  the  preacher  safe  to  his  home. 

"In  the  same  year,  three  young  preachers  came 
from  the  E"orth,  bearing  letters  of  introduction 
from  the  immortal  Fisk.  Dr.  Capers  immediately 
found  quarters  for  two  of  them,  and  took  the  third 
to  be  his  own  guest.  He  had  room  for  no  more, 
and  this  one  had  to  share  my  bed.  He  spent  a 
fortnight  or  so  with  us,  before  finding  employment 
as  a  teacher.  One  day  at  table,  the  Doctor's  eldest 
son,  Frank,  a  bright,  promising  boy, .  then  at  the 
Charleston  College,  and  who  has  not  belied  that 
promise,  used  the  word  'beloved^'  in  a  quotation, 
I  think,  from  Scripture.  ^Belov-e^Z,'  said  his 
father,  correcting  him.  'Why  so.  Dr.  Capers?' 
inquired  the  young  scholar  from  E"ew  England. 
'I  think,'  was  the  reply,  'there  is  a  difference 
between  beloved  as  a  participle,  and  as  an  adjec- 
tive.' 'But,'  continued  the  guest  with  the  in- 
quiring intonation,  '  I  do  not  remember  any  such 
rule  in  the  books.'  'ISTor  do  I,'  said  the  Doctor, 
'  and  yet  I  can  perceive  a  very  marked  distinction 
mentally.  I  would  say,'  he  added,  'John  learned 
his  lesson  well;'  and  then  I  would  say,  'Dr.  Fisk 
is  a  learn-ed  man.'  'I  have  no  objection  at  all  to 
your  distinction.  Doctor  ;  I  think  I  like  it,'  said  Mr. 
Hound ;  for  the  guest  was  the  Eev.  G.  H.  Round, 
since  so  well  and  so  favorably  known  among  us*. 


THE    REV.    JOHN  nUTCIIINSON. 


835 


"The  former  anecdote  illustrates  Dr.  Capers's 
generosity  of  character ;  the  latter  his  exactness  in 
Bome,  if  not  in  all  respects,  in  the  use  of  words. 
And  yet  he  was  far,  very  far  removed  from  hyper- 
criticism." 

A  few  years  before  the  time  referred  to  by  Mr. 
Walker,  an  interesting  young  minister  from  the 
North,  Hutchinson  by  name,  received  very  touch- 
ing proof  of  the  disinterested  kindness  of  Mr. 
Capers  and  his  family.  Mr.  Hutchinson  was  an 
invalid,  far  gone  indeed  in  consumption.  He  was 
a  lovely  young  man,  destined  to  an  early  grave ; 
and  with  scanty  means  was  seeking  the  alleviations 
of  a  Southern  climate  during  cold  weather.  He 
was  welcomed  into  the  house  of  Mr.  Capers,  and 
enlisted  the  affectionate  solicitude  of  parents,  child- 
ren, and  even  servants.  He  remained  with  the 
family  seven  or  eight  months,  and  had  a  servant 
boy  to  wait  on  him,  and  sleep  at  night  in  his 
chamber.  Far  away  from  his  own  kindred,  with 
the  blight  of  premature  decay  stealing  over  his 
early  prospects,  Mr.  Hutchinson  received  all  the 
attentions  which  his  circumstances  required;  and 
by  the  example  of  a  beautiful  resignation,  and  deep 
piety,  and  thankful  spirit,  showed  that  the  kind- 
ness was  worthily  bestowed.  At  the  close  of  his 
protracted  stay,  it  was  as  if  a  member  of  the  family 
were  bidding  the  last  adieus.  At  the  vessel  which 
was  to  carry  him  back  to  hjs  native  IsTew  England 
hills,  to  lie  in  the  burial-place  of  his  kindred,  the 
boy>  Strephon,  who  had  waited  upon  him,  burst 


836 


LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPEES. 


into  tears,  as  though  about  to  lose  his  own  young 
master. 

The  story  of  John,  the  little  postboy,  is  worthy 
of  being  told  in  this  connection,  although  the  event 
occurred  in  one  of  the  earlier  years  of  Mr.  Capers's 
ministry.  At  a  country-inn,  on  one  of  his  journeys, 
Mr.  Capers  had  stopped  for  the  night,  after  a  very 
cold  day's  ride.  After  supper,  he  found  a  small 
lad  sitting  by  the  fire,  thinly  clad,  and  with  a  look 
of  anxiety  in  his  face.  The  proprietor  of  the  house 
presently  said,  ''John,  if  I  were  you,  I  would  not 
go  to-night."  At  these  words  the  little  fellow's 
tears  began  to  flow;  and  he  replied,  "Why  did 
you  say  so?  you  know  I  must  go."  Mr.  Capers 
asked  what  John's  business  was.  He  learned  that 
the  boy  was  a  mail-carrier,  and  had  to  take  the 
mail-bag  twenty-one  miles  that  night.  He  had  no 
other  clothing  than  what  he  then  wore,  all  of  cotton 
goods,  and,  thin  enough.  The  night  was  bitter, 
and  rain  and  sleet  were  then  falling.  Mr.  Capers 
told  him  that  he  must  freeze  to  death  if  he  per- 
sisted in  going ;  and  that  if  he  would  abandon  the 
attempt,  his  employer  should  be  informed  that  he 
had  remained  by  the  advice  and  persuasion  of 
friends.  To  this  the  little  fellow,  in  tears,  said,  "  I 
must  go  :  if  I  don't  I  shall  lose  my  place,  and  then 
my  mother  and  sister  will  starve."  Shortly  after- 
wards, the  mail-carrier  who  brought  the  mail  which 
John  was  to  take  forward  arrived.  He  came  to 
the  fire,  throwing  off"  a  large  bear-skin  overcoat 
loaded  with  sleet ;  and,  with  a  profane  expression, 


THE    LITTLE    MAIL- CARRIER. 


337 


declared  that  he  was  frozen  through.  Mr.  Capers 
said  to  him,  "  Friend,  if,  with  your  overcoat  on,  you 
are  nearly  frozen,  what  will  be  the  fate  of  this  poor 
boy,  thinly  clad  as  he  is,  who  has  to  ride  twenty-one 
miles  aiifl  carry  the  mail  you  have  brought  ?"  "  He 
will  not  live  to  get  over  the  swamp  that  is  just  ahead, 
and  four  miles  wide,"  said  he.  Mr.  Capers  then 
went  to  the  landlady,  to  purchase  a  quilt  or  blanket 
to  cover.  John,  who  persisted  that  he  must  try  to 
go.  She  said  she  could  spare  nothing  of  the  kind. 
"Madam,"  said  he,  "let  me  have  this  half-worn 
blanket  for  the  chilcl;  I  will  give  you  four  dollars 
for  it."  "]S"o,  sir,"  she  said,  "you  will  all  find 
before  morning  that  I  have  no  blanket  to  sell." 
Returning  to  the  fire,  he  said  to  the  owner  of  the 
overcoat,  "  Sir,  will  you  sell  me  your  overcoat  for 
this  boy?"  "Yes,"  said  he,  "if  I  can  get  cost  for 
it,  eight  dollars."  The  money  was  immediately 
paid,  and  Mr.  Capers  handed  the  coat  to  the  boy, 
whose  eyes  instantly  brightened.  He  put  it  on, 
and  soon  set  out  on  his-  dreary  ride.  This  purchase 
had  exhausted 'Mr.  Capers's  money,  and  left  him 
only  twenty-five  cents.  The  next  morning  he  took 
formal  leave  of  the  family  without  asking  for  his 
bill,  determining  to  send  back,  as  soon  as  he 
arrived  home,  the  amount  usually  charged  for  a 
night's  lodging.  On  the  part  of  the  host,  nothing 
was  said  about  pay  when  he  departed.  The  next 
night  he  lodged  with  a  Presbyterian  family,  with 
whom  he  had  no  acquaintance.  "When  the  time 
came  for  family  worship,  his  host,  impressed  by 


338 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


his  appearance  and  conversation  that  he  was  a 
religious  man,  invited  him  to  join  them,  and  to 
lead  the  devotional  exercises.  After  prayers,  he 
inquired  if  the  stranger  were  not  a  minister.  Mr. 
Capers  told  him  who  he  was,  and  that)*  he  w^S 
returning  home  after  a  year's  work  on  the  circuit 
he  had  just  travelled.  Before  breakfast  the  next 
morning,  he  said  to  Mr.  Capers :  "  Friend,  we  do 
not  belong  to  the  same  denomination  of  Christians. 
You  are  a  Methodist,  and  I  am  a  Presbyterian.  It 
is,  I  dare  say,  with  ministers  of  your  denomination 
as  with  ours.  You  at  times  fetand  in  need  of  a 
little  money.  Will  you  please  accept  of  this?'- 
handing  him  twenty  dollars.  On  reaching  home, 
Mr.  Capers  enclosed  a  proper  amount  in  a  letter  to 
the  tavern-keeper  where  he  had  met  with  the  post- 
boy, explaining  the  circumstances.  The  money, 
however,  was  soon  returned,  on  the  ground  that 
they  never  charged  preachers ;  and  he  was  requested 
to  call  again  whenever  he  passed  that  way.  Thus 
quickly  and  signally  did  he  realize  the  truth  of  the 
Divine  word,  Give,  and  it  shall  be  given  unto 
you,  good  measure." 


TROUBLES   IN  CHARLESTON. 


339 


CHAPTER  Vtll. 

Troubles  in  the  Church  in  Charleston — Transferred  to  the  Georgia 
Conference  and  stationed  at  Savannah — Lewis  Myers-Delivers  a 
eulogy  on  Lafayette. 

The  close  of  the  year  1833  was  a  period  of  anxi- 
ety and  trouble  to  Dr.  Capers.  The  existing  B^rd 
of  Trustees  of  the  M.  E.  Church  in  Charleston, 
of  which  he  then  had  the  pastoral  charge,  was 
made  up  of  old  and  tried  members.  But  they 
were  exceedingly  conservative  in  their  ideas,  and 
were  much  inclined  to  adhere  strenuously  to  the  old 
style  of  doing  things,  which  was  sufficiently  slow. 
A  somewhat  faster  generation  had  come  on,  who 
desired,  with  laudable  zeal,  to  have  an  acceleration 
in  the  speed  of  these  elderly  brethren  in  the  man- 
agement of  the  temporalities  of  the  society.  Old 
Eogyism  and  Young  America  came  into  collision 
at  the  Quarterly  Meeting  held  August  30th.  A  set 
of  resolutions  was  introduced  instructing  the 
trustees  to  make  certain  alterations  in  the  sittings 
of  the  church  edifices.  The  trustees  could  not  be 
got  together  for  an  interview"  with  the  committee 
of  the  Quarterly  Conference.  The  latter  party  un- 
dertook to  force  matters ;  and  soon  there  came  up 


840 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPEES. 


a  spirit  of  dogged  resistance  on  the  one  part,  and 
an  eager  determination  to  succeed  on  the  other. 
There  being  n6  disciplinary  mode  of  putting  out 
of  office  the  trustees,  who  went  jogging  on  in  the 
old  way,  securely  covered  in  their  rights  and  privi- 
leges by  the  existing  law  of  the  Church,  the  Young 
America  party  rummaged  about,  and  exhumed  from 
the  dust  and  rubbish  of  near  half  a  century  an 
act  of  incorporation,  which  had  the  singular  quality 
on  its  face  of  naming  no  individuals.  There  existed 
no  record  of  the  names  of  even  the  persons  who 
applied  for  the  charter,  particle  of  evidence 
couid.  be  brought  to  show  that  the  communicants 
of  the  church  in  1787  were  the  original  members 
of  the  corporation ;  and  even  if  that  could  have 
been  done,. all  the  original  corporators  were  long 
since  dead,  without  having  perpetuated  the  corpo- 
ration by  a  succession  of  officers  and  'members,  or 
even,  apart  from  the  Board  of  Trustees,  held  a 
single  official  meeting.  The  original  charter  had 
consequently  lapsed ;  or  at  least  the  usage  of  the 
Methodist  society  in  Charleston  from  1784  had 
legalized  the  Board  of  Trustees,  who,  in  conformity 
with  the  book  of  Discipline,  had  managed  all  the 
property  affairs  of  the  Church,  and  supplied  by 
election  from  time  to  time  the  vacancies  occurring. 

Under  cover  of  this  act,  now  rescued  from  its 
mouldering  oblivion,  a  corporation"  meeting  was 
called,  which  passed  sundry  rules  and  by-laws,  and 
elected  a  Board  of  Trustees ;  not  by  the  first  move 
ousting  the  existing  Board,  but  electing  them  as 


TROUBLES    IN  CHARLESTON. 


341 


its  Board,  and  serving  tliem  with  a  notice  that 
fifteen  days  were  allowed  them  to  determine  whether 
they  would  serve  or  not,  under  the  authority  of  the 
soirdisant  corporation.  This  meeting  was  held 
IS'ovember  12tli,  and  was  adjourned  to  meet  on  the 
evening  of  the  first  Monday  in  December.  The  sur- 
charged gun  did  no  harm  to  the  old  Board,  hut  its  re- 
coil was  bad  for  the  coqDoration  cause.  Matters,  in 
the  opinion  of  the  preacher  in  charge,  had  reached  th6 
point  of  a  revolutionary  movement.  He  therefore 
addressed  to  the  leaders  of  the  coup  d'etat  party  a 
letter  of  reproof,  setting  forth  in  several  distinct 
items  the  evidence  of  their  being  implicated  in 
"disobedience  to  the  order  and  discipline'  of  the 
Church."  The  'adjourned  meeting  was,  neverthe- 
less, held;  the  corporators  elected  nine  of  their 
own  party  a  Board  of  Trustees,  and  twenty-five 
others  an  Executive  Committee.  On  the  7th  of 
December  Dr.  Capers  took  one  of  his  colleagues 
with  him,  the  Eev.  H.  A.  C.  Walker,  and  saw  and 
conversed  with  nine  of  the  refractory  members, 
who  had  been  previously  addressed  by  him  in 
writing.  When  they  had  severally  refused  to  re- 
linquish their  participation  in  the  measures  and 
acts  complained  of,  each  one  was  served  with  a 
citation  to  trial,  upon  the  charge  of  "  disobedience 
to  the  order  and  discipline  of  the  Church,"  followed 
by  five  specifications.  The  parties  then  demanded 
to  be  tried  by  the  society.  This  privilege  was  not 
granted,  on  the  ground  of  the  invariable  practice 
in  the  Charleston  Methodist  Society,  and  as  being 


842  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

a  precedent  of  evil  tendency  in  circumstances  such 
as  then  surrounded  the  case.  The  trial  was  an- 
nounced to  be  held  December  9th.  On  the  day 
previous,  Sunday,  it  occurred  to  Dr.  Capers,  his 
mind  being  in  great  distress,  that  he  would,  as  a 
last  resort,  try  the  force  of  a  personal  appeal.  Ac- 
cordingly at  night,  by  his  request,  he  was  met  by 
the  gentlemen  whose  trial  was  to  be  held  the  next 
day;  and  after  a  touching  appeal,  not  unmingled 
with  tears,  to  their  sense  of  religious  feeling,  he 
proposed  for  their  signature  a  paper  he  had  drawn 
up,, which  stated  that,  in  kindness  to  the  opinions 
and  feelings  of  the  ministry  and  brethren,  they 
agreed  that  the  proceedings  of  the  two  corporation 
meetings  should  '  be  as  if  they  had  never  taken 
place,  provided  that  the  records  of  the  Church, 
deeds  of  conveyance,  and  the  like,  should  be  sub- 
mitted to  the  Judges  of  the  Court  of  Appeals  for 
their  decision  as  to  the  question  of  the  existence 
of  a  corporation,  and  in  whom  it  vested  if  it  did 
exist.  To  this  paper  all  present,  twenty-two  in 
number,  put  their  signatures,  and  the  citation  to 
trial  was  withdrawn. 

This  promising  adjustment  came  to  nothing. 
Dr.  Capers  left  Charleston  December  31,  to  attend 
the  session  of  the  Georgia  Conference.  On  his 
return,  January  23d,  1834,  he  was  waited  on  by 
several  of  the  signers  of  the  paper  aforementioned, 
and  informed  that  they  considered  themselves  re- 
leased from  the  obligation  of  their  signatures,  qn 
the  ground  that  they  were  satisfied  that  the  refer- 


SUPERINTENDENT    OF  MISSIONS.  343 

ence  to  the  Judges  was  impracticable.  This  he 
heard  with  deep  regret ;  hut  as  the  term  of  his  ad- 
ministration was  now  closing,  he  informed  them 
that  he  could  have'no  more  to  do  with  the  affair, 
but  must  leave  it  in  the  hands  of  his  successor. 
The  session  of  the  South  Carolina  Conference  was 
held  in  Charleston  a  few  days  afterwards,  Bishop 
Emory  presiding.  After  an  unavailing  effort  on 
the  part  of  that  eminent  man  to  adjust  the  diffi- 
culty, affairs  reached  their  crisis  in  the  course  of 
the  ensuing  summer;  and  eight  of  the  leading 
members  of  the  corporation  party  were  cited  to 
trial,  and  expelled  from  the  communion  according 
to  the  forms  of  the  book  of  Discipline,  notwith- 
standing a  large  number  of  their  friends  had 
pledged  themselves  to  l^ave  the  Church  in  the 
event  of  their  expulsion.  The  whole  case  fur- 
nishes a  monitory  lesson  against  attempting  to  go 
too  fast ;  and  a  lesson  equally  monitory  against  the 
stand-still  policy. 

Early  in  the  year  1834,  Dr.  Capers  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  Georgia  Conference,  and  stationed  in 
Savannah.  In  connection  with  this  appointment 
he  was  made  Superintendent  of  the  missions  to  the 
blacks,  near  Savannah,  and  on  the  neighboring 
islands.  Bishop  Emory,  who  presided  at  the  ses- 
sions of  the  Georgia  and  South  Carolina  Confer- 
ences, specially  and  earnestly  requested  Dr.  Capers 
to  take  the  superintendence  of  these  missions, 
although  he  was  aware  that  such  an  arrangement 
would  add  considerably  to  the  labors  of  his  station. 


'844  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


He  felt  it  to  be  important,  at  that  stage  of  these 
missions,  to  have  the  supervision  of  them  intrusted 
to  one  known  extensively  and  favorably  to  the 
planters  on  Savannah  and  Og(5echee  rivers.  Dr. 
Capers  cheerfully  accepted  these  increased  respon- 
sibilities. His  interest  in  the  missionary  work 
never  flagged ;  and  his  influence  was  highly  valu- 
able. The  writer  of  these  memoirs  had  the  plea- 
sure, during  a  visit  to  Savannah  in  the  spring  of 
that  year,  to  accompany  Dr.  Capers  on  one  of  his 
missionary  visitations,  and  to  witness  the  cordial 
welcome  tendered  him  by  the  planters.  It  was 
hard  to  say  which  was  the  more  to  be  admired — 
the  affability  with  which  he  condescended  to  "  men 
of  low  estate"  in  his  intercourse  with  the  planta- 
tion slaves  to  whom  he  preached,  or  the  elegance 
of  his  manners  and  conversation  in  circles  of  the 
highest  refinement  and  intelligence. 

What  sort  of  preaching  he  deemed  most  suitable 
for  plantation  negroes,  can  best  be  described  in  his 
own  words:  "It  should  be  preaching;  not  a  dry 
lecturing  on  morals  merely — much  less  a  paraded 
speech  of  long  and  high-sounding  words.  Ser- 
mons should  be  short,  and,  of  course,  full  of 
unction.  As  for  the  texts,  all  are  yours.  I  know 
of  but  one  gospel  for  all  people.  But  we  find  it 
impracticable  to  hold  preaching-meetings  on  our 
missions  on  the  week-days.  Although  in  the  low- 
country,  the  main  field  of  our  missions,  the"  labor 
of  the  plantation  is  assigned  to  the  hands  by  daily 
tasks,  and  the  tasks  are  done  by  two  or  three 


LEWIS  MYERS. 


845 


o'clock  in  the  afternoon  in  the  summer  months, 
and  before  sunset  in  the  winter,  the  negroes  move 
heavily  to  preaching;  unless  you  would  have  it 
^  at  midnight,  when  they  are  wide  awake,  and  you 
might  fall  asleep  yourself.  Meetings  for  cate- 
chis-m,  or  even  class-meetings,  can  be  held  in  the 
week,  but  for  preaching,  I  know  no  time  but  the 
Sabbath,  unless  they  might  attend  wakeful  ly  at 
the  break  of  day,  which  I  never  tried.  Great 
patience  is  requisite  with  these  people.  They 
must  be  allowed  to  be  themselves.  If,  indeed,  they 
have  taken  a  dream  to  be  conversion,  or  any  thing 
appears  inconsistent  with  sound  belief  and  vital 
godliness,  it  must  be  corrected  forthwith,  but  with 
meekness  of  wisdom,  and  in  the  spirit  of  love.  But 
with  respect  to  their  modes  of  expressing  pious 
emotion,  hold  them  not  to  a  rule  which  they  may 
deem  unnatural.  Why  should  the  tastes  and  habits 
of  refined  life  be  made  to  bear  as  a  law  upon  the 
negro?  ITo  one  thinks  of  it  in  respect  to  other 
things.  'No :  a  shout  that  comes  with  a  kindled 
countenance  and  flowing  tears,  is  never  to  be  an 
offence  to  a  negro  missionary." 

The  writer  accompanied  Dr.  Capers  also  on  a 
visit  to  his  venerable  friend,  Lewis  Myers,  whose 
residence  was  at  Goshen,  in  Effingham  county, 
sixteen  miles  from  Savannah.  This  patriarchal 
man,  some  eight  or  ten  years  previously,  had  be- 
come superannuated,  after  an  effective  ministry  of 
a  quarter  of  a  century ;  a  large  portion  of  which 
time  he  filled  the  office  of  Presiding  Elder.  He 


346  LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

was  of  German  extraction,  and  had  tlj^  Dutch 
sturdiness  of  huild  and  common-sense.  His  early 
•advantages  had  been  small;  but  his  religion  had 
made  a  man  of  him.  His  native  shrewdness  of 
mind  had  been  cultivated  by  a  good  deal  of  read- 
ing, and  much  close  study  of  the  Bible,  with  much 
observation  of  human  nature.  There  was,  withal, 
a  subdued  vein  of  humor  running  through  him ;  a 
little  quaintness  that  made  his  society  piquant; 
and  a  remarkable  gentleness  and  sweetness  play- 
ing round  what  looked  like  the  austerity  of  fixed 
and  severe  habits  of  personal  virtue.  You  would 
hardly  expect  such  a  man  to  show  much  emotion ; 
yet  he  seldom  preached  to  the  close  of  a  sermo-n 
without  tears.  He  had  preached  the  gospel  in 
nearly  every  part  of  the  low  country  of  South 
Carolina  and  Georgia ;  and  had  gone  abreast  with 
such  men  as  Tobias  Gibson,  Britton  Capel,  and 
James  Eussell:  preached  it  in  the  dialect  of  the 
common  people,  and  to  the  strong,  hard  sense  of 
the  common  people,  who  know  how  to  digest  the 
pith  of  an  argument  nearly  as  well  as  the  meta- 
physicians :  preached  it  when  the  population  was 
sparse,  churches  few,  and  travelling  vastly  fatigu- 
ing ;  and  so  preached  it  as  to  leave  great  and 
fruitful  results  behind.  He  belonged  to  a  class  of 
men  of  heroic  mould,  who  could  take  the  saddle, 
face  a  day's  hard  rain,  swim  swollen  creeks,  live 
in  the  cabins  of  the  poor,  eat  bear-meat  if  neces- 
sary, and  preach  without  manuscript  every  day  of 


EULOGY    ON    LAFAYETTE.  347 

the  week ;  who  went  girded  into  the  great  battle- 
field where  ignorance,  vice,  and  semi-barbarism 
were  to  be  confronted,  and  fought  a  good,  honest 
fight,  very  dilferent  from  the  sham-battles  of  holi- 
day heroes.  Mr.  Myers  had  been  a  man  of  weight 
in  the  Conference,  well  versed  in  ajffairs,  of  sound 
judgment,  and  looked  up  to  with  universal  re- 
spect. "Two  things  are  worthy  of  note  in  his 
character:  he  was  a  man  of  few  words,  well 
weighed,  and  to  the  point,  and  he  knew  when  he 
was  done,  and  where  to  stop  ;  and  he  knew  also  how 
to  decrease — to  pass  gracefully  off  the  stage,  and 
resign  to  younger  men,  without  regret  or  croaking, 
the  working  of  a  system  with  which  his  strongest 
and  best  years  had  been  identified.  Dr.  Capers 
held  him  in  high  respect  for  his  past  services  to 
the  Church  and  country,  and  for  the  purity  and 
unaffected  dignity  of  his  Christian  character.  He 
died  in  JSTovember,  1851 ;  and  as  one  of  the  fathers 
of  Southern  Methodism,  he  has  left  an  honored 
memory. 

In  July,  Dr.  Capers  received  a  communication 
from  the  Mayor  of  Savannah,  enclosing  the  follow- 
ing resolutions  passed  by  the  City  Council : 

"  In  Council,  July  1,  1834. 

Resolved,  That  this  Board  have  received  the 
melancholy  tidings  of  the  decease  of  the  venerable 
Lafayette  with  sensations  of  deep  sorrow :  that  the 
event,  though  one  to  have  been  anticipated  from  his 


348  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

advanced  years,  is  nevertheless  deplored  as  the  loss 
of  one  of  the  last  of  those  luminaries  which  led  us 
to  liberty  and  the  blessings  we  now  enjoy. 

"  jResolvedj  That  it  be  recommended  to  the 
citizens  of  Savannah  to  do  the  last  honors  .to  his 
memory,  by  a  civic  and  military  procession,  and  by 
religious  services,  on  a  day  to  be  named  by  the 
Mayor.  That  the  Rev.  the  clergy  of  all"  denomi- 
nations be  requested  to  unite  in  these  services; 
and  that  the  Rev.  Dr.  Capers,  the  son  of  a  Revolu- 
tionary soldier,  be.  requested  to  pronounce  .an 
eulogium  to  his  well-known  merits." 

To  this  request  Dr.  Capers  acceded,  performing 
the  service  required  to  the  gratification  of  the  entire 
community.  Some,  indeed,  of  the  most  admirable 
of  his  pulpit  efforts  were  those  produced  und^r 
the  influence  of  occasions, — and  designed  to  show 
the  hand  of  God,  to  vindicate  his  ways,  or  illustrate 
his  providence  in  important  passing  events.  He 
always  made  these  occasions  tributary  to  the 
spiritual  welfare  of  his  congregation,  not  their 
entertainment  merely.  He  sacrificed  neither  good 
taste  nor  devotional  feeling  in  handling  subjects 
of  this  class :  under  his  treatment  they  suggested 
topics  of  discourse  which  gave  fresh  force  to 
admitted  truths,  and  unwonted  power  to  familiar 
ideas. 

The  interest  felt  by  Dr.  Capers  in  the  welfare 
and  improvement  of  young  ministers,  deserves 
mention.  He  was  fond  of  repeating  a  sapng  of 
Bishop  Asbury,  "  Our  boys  are  men/'    Affable  and 


LETTER  TO  THE  REV.   A.   W.   WALKER.  349 

always  accessible  to  his  young 'friends,  his  coun- 
sels and  advices  were  ever  at  their  service;  and 
his  words  of  encouragement  often  came  as  a  balm 
upon  the  spirit  cast  down  and  well-nigh  dismayed 
by  the  conscious  want  of  qualification  for  the 
solemn  responsibilities  of  the  ministerial  office. 
The  following  letter  was  written  in  the  autumn  of 
1834,  to  the  Rev.  A.  W.  Walker,  then  travelling  his 
first  circuit.  It  furnishes  a  fine  illustration  of 
warmth  of  affection,  tenderness  of  spirit,  and  wis- 
dom of  counsel.  It  may  be  read  w^ith  great  profit 
by  every  young  preacher  who  wishes  to  make 
"  full  proof  of  his  ministry." 

"  My  DEAR  Alexander  : — -I  thank  you  for  your 
very  kind  and  affectionate  letter  of  the  7th  ult. 
You  might  doubt  your  having  any  thing  to  do 
with  the  duties  of  the  ministry,  if  you  could  enter 
upon  them  without  fear  and  trembling,  or  make 
any  considerable  trial  of  the  work  of  an  evangelist 
without  much  misgiving  and  an  humbling  sense  of 
your  insufficiency.  l^"ever  forget  that  our  adorable 
Lord  and  Master  was  led  up  into  the  wilderness  to 
be  tempted  of  the  devil — certainly  not  for  his  own 
sake,  as  though  such  a  preparation  could  be  neces- 
sary to  prove  him  and  qualify  him  for  the  work  of 
preaching  the  gospel ;  but  for  our  sakes,  and  for  the 
sake  of  all  who  should  become  his  ambassadors, 
that  it  might  be  example  and  evidence  to  them,  to 
uSy  of  what  is  proper  to  the  experience  of  those 
who  are  put  as  if  in  his  stead,  to  plead  with  sinners 


350 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


to  be  reconciled  to  God.  The  conflicts  connected 
with  your  work,  form  an  indispensable  part  of  the 
qualification  necessary  to  its  acceptable  and  effect- 
ual performance.  The  more  you  are  assaulted  by 
Satan,  the  more  will  your  profiting  a]3pear,  if  you 
cleave  to  Christ  in  faith  and  prayer.  He  overcame 
for  iLS,  that  we  might  overcome  bi/  him. 

"It  is  good  for. you  to  cherish  a  high  and  sacred 
sense  of  the  dignity  and  responsibility  of  your 
calling,  and  humbling  views  of  your  personal  fit- 
ness for  so  great  a  work.  But  how  is  this  good  for 
you  ?  Certainly  not  if  you  give  way  to  despond- 
ency, as  though  something  were  required  of  you 
impossible  to  be  done ;  but  it  is  good  for  you,  as  it 
is  calculated  to  and  shall  cause  you  to  trust  in  the 
living  God ;  while  you  give  yourself  to  study  and 
prayer,  sobriety  and  watching,  that  he  who  alone 
is  able  to  make  you  a  fit  instrument  in-  his  work, 
may  use  you,  even  you,  to  glorify  his  name  in  the 
conversion  of  many.  You  cannot  doubt  but  if 
God  will  use  you,  you  shall  be  useful.  Any  thing, 
that  shall  please  him,  may  work  miracles ;  and 
without  his  immediate  blessing,  Paul  or  Apollos 
were  as  insignificant  as  the  most  unworthy  prattlers. 
You  find  yourself  deficient  in  knowledge?  It 
would  be  melancholy,  at  your  age,  if  you  did  not. 
You  must  feel  your  deficiency  now,  and  that  to 
such  a  degree  as  shall  make  you  diligent  to  im- 
prove your  time  in  study,  or  you  will  feel  it  by  and 
by,  when  it  will  be  too  late  to  make  any  much 
advantage  of  it.  But,  I  beseech  you,  suffer  no  sense 


LETTER   TO   THE   REV.   A.   W.   WALKER.  351 

of  deficiency  in  knowledge  of  any  kind  to  influ- 
ence you  further  than  to  redeem  your  time  for 
improvement.  If  you  will  do  this  steadily  and 
perseveringly,  you  shall  find  your  account  in  it ; 
aQd  by  uniting  study,  and  preaching,  and  other 
exercises  of  your  sacred  functions,  your  profiting 
shall  appear  to  all  men ;  yea,  you  shall  become  an 
able  minister  of  the  Kew  "Testament,  and  that 
before  many  years.  The  Methodist  itinerancy 
afibrds  a  sort  of  manual-labor  school  for  preachers, 
the  very  best  to  qualify  them  for  their  work  if  they 
will  use  it  ivell.  The  best  way  to  learn  to  preach  is 
in  the  practice  of  preaching. 

"  Carry  all  your  discouragements,  difficulties, 
troubles,  to  God,  and  go  to  him  with  them  expect- 
ing the  help  which  you  ask.  You  will  scarcely 
find  it  profitable,  either  to  yourself  or  others,  to 
say  much,  or  indeed  any  thing,  about  them  to  the 
people  among  whom  you  labor.  To  a  confidential 
friend,  especially  if  he  is  himself  experienced  in 
the  trials  of  the  ministry,  our  ministry,  you  may 
open  your  mind  to  profit,  when  occasion  serves. 

"  May  God  bless  you,  my  dear  brother,  and 
keep  you  faithful  and  approved  in  all  things. 
"Your  very  sincere  friend  and  brother, 

"W.  Capers. 

"P.  S. — ^You  are  always  prudent  in  your  inter- 
course with  females.  You  cannot  be  too  much  so.'* 


352  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Removal  to  Columbia — Accepts  the  Professorship  of  Moral  and 
Intellectual  Philosophy  in  the  South  Carolina  College — Reasons 
for  an  early  resignation — Denominational  education. 

Having  finished  his  year  of  pastoral  service  in 
Savannah,  Dr.  Capers  was  transferred  by  the  pre- 
siding Bishop  to  South  Carolina,  and  connected 
with  the  station  of  Columbia,  the  Rev.  Malcom 
McPherson  being  preacher  in  charge.  The  object 
of  this  arrangement  was  to  meet  a  very  general 
wish  on  the  part  of  his  clerical  brethren,  and  of 
the  public  generally,  that  he  should  take  a  post  in 
the  State  College.  The  fortunes  of  the  institution 
had  waned  under  the  administration  of  Dr.  Cooper, 
and  public  opinion  demanded  the  inauguration  of 
different  principles  at  this  seat  of  learning  on  which 
the  treasure  of  the  State  had  been  lavished  without 
stint.  It  was  thought  that  Dr.  Capers  might  be 
instrumental  in  bringing  about  a  turn  in  the  tide, 
and  restoring  the  college  to  the  position  it  had  lost 
in  the  public  confidence.  ^Negotiations  had  been 
opened  with  him  by  a  committee*  of  the  trustees, 
empowered  for  the  purpose  of  supplying  the  chair 
of  Moral  and  Intellectual  Philosophy  and  Evidences 
of  Christianity,  until  the  regular  meeting  of  the 


PROFESSOR    IN    S.    C.    COLLEGE.  853 

Board.  So  far  as  mere  feeling  and  inclination 
went,  Dr.  Capers  would  have  much  preferred  an 
arrangement  contemplated  by  the  Bishop,  which 
looked  to  his  taking  the  superintendence  of  the 
colored  missions.  But  it  was  always  a  principle 
with  him  to  hold  private  preferences  and  personal 
feeling  subordinate  to  the  judgment  of  his  brethren, 
so  far  as  public  service  was  concerned.  Being 
urged  to  take  the  Professorship,  he  submitted  the 
question  to  the  judgment  of  the  Conference. 
Bishop  Andrew,  whose  opinions  on  the  subject  of 
Christian  education  have  always  been  sound  and 
far-seeing,  took  ocQasion  to  say,  that  in  view  of  his 
being  appointed,  at  some  short  time  to  come. 
President  of  the  college,  as  was  then  anticipated, 
he  thought  Dr.  Capers  ought  to  accept  the  place 
now  offered  him ;  but  added,  that  he  doubted  if 
the  Church  ought  to  give  up  her  claim  upon  his 
labors  for  any  subordinate  appointment.  The  Con- 
ference then  unanimously  voted  its  advice  in 
accordance  with  the  views  thus  expressed ;  and  he 
accepted  forthwith  the  Professorship. 

Removing  his  family  to  the  campus,  he  entered 
upon  his  scholastic  duties.  Early  in  June  the 
trustees  met  ;  but  instead  of  electing  him  Presi- 
dent, as  had  been  anticipated,  they  created  a  new 
professorship — that  of  the  Evidences  of  Christiani- 
ty and  Sacred  Literature — and  made  it  the  duty  of 
the  officer  holding  that  chair  to  perform  Divine  ser- 
vice in  the  college  chapel;  requesting  the  othei 
professors  to  make  arrangements  for  instructipg  ia 
12 


354 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


Moral  and  Intellectual  Philosophy  until  a  President 
should  be  elected.  This  appointment  Dr.  Capers 
felt  himself  constrained  to  decline.  In  his  letter 
signifying  this  intention  to  the  Board  of  Trustees, 
he  reminds  them  that  he  had  never  solicited  any 
appointment  in  the  college,  but  at  any  time  had 
only  been  willing  to  take  a  part  in  establishing  the 
college  on  such  principles  as  might  make  it  a  desir- 
able place  for  the  sons  of  Christian  parents  gen- 
erally, or  otherwise  no  part  in  it  on  any  account 
whatever;  that  he  had  perceived  indications,  both 
as  to  the  Presidency  and  the  organization  of  the 
college,  calculated  to.  discourage  the  hope  that  reli- 
gious principles  were  intended  to  have  a  controlling 
influence  in  the  establishment;  that  the  duties 
assigned  him  in  the  recent  appointment  amounted 
to  little  else  than  a  chaplaincy;  and  that  the  bare 
title  of  professor  could  scarcely  be  expected  to 
shield  him  from  the  possible  obloquy  of  being  con- 
sidered only  as  "a  hired,  jjaid,  and  salaried  priest," 
In  view,  therefore,  of  the  only  moving  considera- 
tion for  his  coming  into  the  college,  and  under  a 
sense  of  heavy  public  responsibility,  he  begged 
respectfully  to  decline  the  appointment. 

These  were  good  and  sufficient  reasons.  Th^re 
is  no  likelihood  that  the  trustees  meant  any  thing 
but  what  was  entirely  respectful  to  him. ;  and  cer- 
tainly, by  putting  the  pulpit  of  the  chapel  into  his 
hands  exclusively,  they  placed  at  his  command  a 
powerful  agency  for  moulding  the  religious  senti- 
ments of  the  foremost  young  men  of  the  country. 


REASONS   FOR   RESIGNING.  355 

He  was  told  the  day  after  the  meeting  of  the  Board, 
,  by  one  of  its  members,  in  a  somewhat  facetious 
way,  that  they  had , elected  him  "professor  of  reli- 
gion !"  He  had,  it  must  be  confessed,  some  grounds 
for.  the  apprehension  that  the  appointment  of  a 
preacher  to  do  the  praying  and  other  parts  of 
Divine  service  for  the  college,  was  considered  ,  a 
sufficient  concession  to  the  demands  of  Christian 
opinion  in  the  State.  If  he  had  been  satisfied  that 
a  cordial,  sustained,  religious  cooperation  could 
have  been  reasonably  anticipated  on  the  part  of  his 
colleagues  in  the  faculty,  he  might,  perhaps,  have 
hesitated  as  to  the  question  of  duty.  Most  likely 
he  would  have  retained  his  connection  with  the 
college.  For  the  first  time  the  religious  com- 
munion of  which  he  was  a  minister  had  now  a 
representative  in  the  Board  of  Instruction  in  an 
institution  which,  in  proportion  to  their  number 
and  means,  they  were  compelled  to  support.  To  a 
man  of  his  breadth  of  view,  it  must  have  appeared 
that  a  monopoly  of  liberal  education  in  the  hands 
of  the  other  leading  sects  of  the  State,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  his  own,  tended,  by  a  silent  but  irresist- 
ible influence,  to  consign  the  excluded  denomina- 
tion to  ignorance  and  obscurity.  To  such  a  policy, 
whatever  may  have  occasioned  it,  he  must  have 
been  opposed,  on  the  grounds  alike  of  social  equal- 
ity, civil  liberty,  and  religious  principle.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  presiding  officer  of  the  Annual 
Conference  had  "expressed,  without  reserve,  the 
opinion  that  Dr.  Capers  could  not  be  spared  for 


356  LIFE    OP   WILLIAM  CAPEES. 

unj  lower  permanent  post  than  the  Presidency; 
and  in  this  pronounced  opinion  the  Conference  had 
coincided.  Besides,  his  age  and  public  position 
required,  at  the  very  least,  that  it  should  he  known 
to  him  who  was  to  he  honored  with  that  appoint- 
ment. The  choice  might  fall  upon  a  layman  distin- 
guished, indeed,  for  learning,  hut  an  enemy  at 
heart  to  all  vital  Christianity.  "With  susceptible 
young  men,  one  sneer  from  such  a  man  would  be 
sufficient  to  neutralize  the  effect  of  a  dozen  ser- 
mons from  the  chaplain.  And,  in  fine,  to  his  high 
and  scrupulous  sense  of  delicacy,  any  liability  to 
the  imputation  of  mercenary  motives  in  the  exer- 
cise of  his  ministry  was  abhorrent.  The  late  Pres- 
ident had  voluntarily  exonerated  Methodist  min- 
isters from  the  sweeping  charges  he  had  flung  from 
his  terrible  pen  against  the  clergy.  And  now,  was 
a  Methodist  minister,  standing  at  the  head  of  the 
Methodist  denomination  in  South  Carolina,  to  be 
the  first  to  illustrate,  within  the  very  halls  which 
had  resounded  with  the  echoes  of  the  invective, 
the  supposed  frailty  of  the  whole  class  ? 

His  resignation  lost  to  the  Methodist  Church  the 
incalculable  benefit  which  his  pulpit  ministrations 
and  professional  teachings  would  have  conferred 
upon  many  of  her  sons.  The  Protestant  Episco- 
palians, the  Presb3^terians,  and  the  Baptists  have  in 
turn  been  represented  in  the  chapel  ministrations 
of  the  South  Carolina  College;  the  Methodist 
Church  has  not.  l^ov  has  there  ever  been  a  Method- 
ist la3^man — although  there  are  numbers  in  the 


DENOMINATIONAL   COLLEGES.  357 

State  fully  qualified  to  serve — allowed  to  sit  in  the 
Board  of  Trustees.  And  it  is  a  curious  coinci- 
dence, that  at  the  very  time  when,  at  length,  the 
Methodist  Church  in  South  Carolina  was  to  have  a 
college  of  her  own,  the  President  of  the  State  Col- 
lege, a  Presbyterian  minister,  alike  eminent  for 
ability  and  influence,  published  a  letter  to  the 
Governar  of  South  Carolina  against  denominational 
colleges.  The  most  admirable  feature  in  the  whole 
afiair  has  been  the  profound  resignation  and  pious 
freedom  from  resentment  which  has  marked  the 
contented  spirit  of  the  denomination  thus  ignored 
and  thrust  aside. 

But  the  subject  is  too  serious  for  levity.  "I 
could  write  down  the  names,"  said  Dr.  Olin  in 
1844,  "  of  scores  of  educated  men,  in  every  part  of 
the  land — many  of  them  eminent  for  the  great 
talents  and  learning  with*  which  they  adorn  the 
highest  stations  in  Church  and  State — the  sons  of 
Methodist  parents,  and  the  rightful  heritage  of 
Methodism,  who  were  lost  to  the  denomination, 
and  not  a  few  of  them  to  Christianity,  by  being  ex- 
posed to  alien  influences  at  the  theatre  of  their 
literary  training.  I  have  been  curious  in  collecting 
this  sort  of  statistics.  My  observations  and  in- 
quiries have  extended  more  or  less  to  the  larger 
half  of  the  United  States,  and  I  give  it  as  the  prox- 
imate result  of  these  investigations,  that  a  large 
majority  of  Methodist  young  men — not  less,  I  think, 
than  three-fourths  of  all  who  have  been  educated  in 
colleges  not  under  our  own  direction — have  been  lost 


358  LIFE    OP   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

to  our  cause.  Many  of  them  have  gone  to  other 
denominations,  many  more  have  gone  to  the  world. 
All  were  the  legitimate  children  of  the  Church. 
They  were  her  hope,  and  they  should  have  become 
the  crown  of  her  rejoicing.  But  for  her  own 
grievous  neglect  to  provide  for  the  nurture  of  the 
sons  whom  God  gave  her,  many  of  these  had  now 
been  standard-bearers  in  her  battles,  and  shining 
lights  in  her  firmament.  My  heart  sickens  at  such 
contemplations  of  the  past,  and  I  fervently  pray 
that  God  may  save  us  from  similar  folly  and  humili- 
ation in  years  to  come." 

It  was  the  avowed  sentiment  of  Dr.  Capers,  that 
"he  who  is  not  zealous  for  religion  in  that  form  of 
it  which  he  most  approves,  can  illy  pretend  to  be 
zealous  for  it  in  some  other  form."  He  was,  con- 
sequently, a  decided  Methodist,  though  at  the  farthest 
possible  remove  from  the  bigotry  which  considers 
its  own  modification  of  Christianity  to  comprehend 
all  of  it  that  is  trustworthy  in  the  world.  Richard 
"Watson  prefixed  to  his  autograph  in  Dr.  Capers' s 
album,  at  the  London  Conference,  the  following 
beautiful  dictum :  "  The  two  great  pillars  on  which 
the  system  of  Wesleyan  Methodism  rests,  are  uni- 
versal love  and  universal  hpliness.''  'No  teacher  or 
disciple  of  the  Wesleyan  school  believed  this  more 
fully  than  Dr.  Capers.  But  the  catholic  feeling 
harmonized  fully  with  the  firm  and'intelligent  ad- 
herence to  denominational  peculiarities.  He  could 
not,  therefore,  be  insensible  to  the  important 
claims  of  education  under  the  control  of  his  own 


METHODIST  EDUCATION. 


359 


communion.  We  have  seen  in  what  point  of  view 
he  regarded  the  influence  of  Dr.  Fisk,  in  the  ITorth- 
east,  in  this  department  of  public  service.  With- 
out consideriog  himself  to  possess  the  peculiar  apti- 
tudes of  taste  and  scholarly  daily  habit  which  make 
a  man  an  accomplished  instructor,  and  with  a  cleri- 
cal training  in  the  itinerant  field  for  twenty-five 
years,  such  as  made  the  action,  freedom,  variety, 
and  triumphs  of  that  field  the  delight  and  home  of 
his  heart,  he  had,  nevertheless,  upon  the  compul- 
sion of  a  sense  of  duty,  yielded  all  his  private 
preferences,  and  taken  a  chair  in  a  literary  institu- 
tion. And  wherefore?  Because  the  convictions 
of  his  maturest  judgment  satisfied  him  that  religion 
is  the  saving  salt  of  education;  and  that  the  cir- 
cumstances of  his  native  State  required  impera- 
tively that  at  least  he  should  make  an  effort  in  that 
direction.  The  embarrassments  he  encountered 
have  been  adverted  to. 

The  prevalence  of  such  convictions  in  connec- 
tion with  the  confessed  difficulties  and  delicacies 
presented  by  the  very  constitution  of  colleges  sup- 
ported by  the  State,  has  led  to  the  establishment 
of  denominational  institutions.  The  Address  of, 
the  Bishops  to  the  General  Conference  of  1850,  in 
language  eloquent  and  forcible,  sets  forth  the  views 
of  the  ablest  minds  in  the  Methodist  Church  on 
this  subject.  They  say:  "Our  Church  has  long 
since  made  its  decision  in  favor  of  this  important 
adjunct  (education)  to  the  work  of  enlightening 
and  converting  the  world.    If  we  would  exert  our 


360 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


proper  share  of  influence  in  directing  the  move- 
ments of  mind  and  heart  in  this  stirring  age,  we 
must  connect  Methodism  with  whatever  is  true  and 
valuable,  pure  and  beautiful,  in  science  and  letters  ; 
and  our  children  must  identify  the  scriptural  doc- 
trines and  the  well-tried  and  time-honored  institu- 
tions of  the  Church  of  their  fathers  with  the  recol- 
lections and  associations,  not  only  of  the  Sabbath- 
school  room,  but  also  of  the  halls  of  learning,  and 
whatever  is  erudite  and  polished  or  eloquent  in 
the  utterance  of  professional  instruction.  Our 
aim  is  not  merely  to  render  Methodism  respectable 
by  associating  it  with  profound  scholarship,  but 
mainl}^  to  imbue  this  sctolarship  with  the  prin- 
ciples and  spirit  of  a  pure  and  hallowed  Chris- 
tianity." 

To  do  this  effectually,  the  faculty  of  instruction 
must  find  a  representative  and  utter  a  voice  in  the 
chapel  pulpit.  The  President,  if  he  is,  as  he  should 
be,  a  member  of  an  Annual  Conference,  is  the  con- 
necting link  between  that  body  and  the  college ; 
between  the  pulpit  and  the  students.  It  is  a  de- 
plorably shallow  ]3hilosophy,  or  common  sense 
either,  which  conceives  of  the  congregation  of 
students  addressed  by  an  officer,  in  the  character 
of  a  gospel  preacher,  as  a  parcel  of  youngsters  who 
had  as  well  be  anywhere  else,  so  far  as  profit  or 
effective  influence  is  concerned,  as  in  a  college 
chapel.  These  young  men  are,  many  of  them,  to 
form  your  future  travelling  preachers,  your  class- 
leaders  and  trustees,  as  well  as  teachers,  statesmen, 


DR.  fisk's  preaching.  361 

agriculturists,  doctors,  and  lawyers.  They  are  at 
the  most  impressible  period  of  human  life.  They 
can  be  made,  and  are  made,  to  feel  the  power  of 
Christian  truth.  From  no  human  lips  will  they 
listen  to  it  with  deeper  reverence  than  from  the 
lips  of  an  admired,  beloved  professor,  who  also  dis- 
courses to  them  on  literary  subjects  in  the  recita- 
tion-room. No  year  passes  without  some  college 
revival,  that  can  be  traced  to  sources  like  these. 
Dr.  Fisk's  biographer,  in  describing  the  preaching 
of  that  gifted  man  in  the  chapel  of  the  Wesleyan 
University,  says,  that  after  one  of  these  displays  of 
powerful  Christian  oratory,  a  lady  of  cultivated 
mind — a  stranger  in  the  place — as  she  came  away 
said  to  another,  with  a  half-stifled  voice,  "Have 
you  any  irreligious  students  in  your  college?"  and 
on  being  answered  in  the  affirmative,  added,  "As- 
tonishing !" 


362 


LIFE    OF  WILLIAM 


CAPERS. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Lays  the  corner-stone  of  the  Cokesbury  School — George  Holloway— 
Visits  Georgia — Stationed  in  Charleston — Congregational  sing- 
ing— Appointed  Editor  of  the  Southern  Christian  Advocate — 
Great  fire  in  Charleston — Collections  for  rebuilding  the  churches 
— Centenary  of  Methodism. 

In  tlie  course  of  the  summer  of  1835,  Dr.  Capers 
went  to  Abbeville  District,  and,  by  invitation  of 
tbe  Board  of  Trustees  of  the  Cokesbury  School, 
delivered  an  address  at  the  laying  of  the  corner- 
stone of  the  principal  building.  This  institution, 
which  is  under  the  control  of  the  South  Carolina 
Conference,  has  had  an  eminently  useful  and  popu- 
lar career.  Among  its  rectors  stand  the  names  of 
instructors  of  high  reputation  in  their  profession. 
The  munificence  of  Mr.  George  Holloway,  a  Me- 
thodist gentleman  of  comfortable  property,  who 
died,  leaving  no  children,  has  given  an  endowment 
to  the  school,  which  secures  the  education  and 
board  of  eight  or  ten  sons  of  ministers  of  the 
South  Carolina  Conference,  the  preference  being 
given  to  the  sons  of  deceased  or  superannuated 
preachers.  A  long  line  of  useful  results  will  hand 
down  to  posterity  his  honored  name  as  a  public 
benefactor. 


CONGREGATIONAL    SINGING.  363 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  year,  Dr.  Capers  paid  a 
visit  to  Georgia,  spending  a  little  time  with  his 
attached  friends,  Dr.  Branham,  of  Eatonton,  and 
Mr.  Foard,  of  Milledgeville.  At  the  session  of  the 
Conference  in  the  winter,  he  was  appointed  to 
Charleston,  preacher  in  charge,  his  colleagues  be- 
ing Messrs.  J.  Sewell,  McColl,  and  Gamewell. 
This  was  one  of  his  most  ef&cient  and  successful 
years  in  the  pastoral  work.  His  preaching  was 
full  of  unction ;  a  gracious  influence  went  along 
with  it ;  and  the  membership  among  the  whites  in- 
creased full  thirty  per  cent. 

A  peculiarity  in  Dr.  Capers' s  pulpit  ministra- 
tions may  here  be  noted.  His  invariable  habit 
was  to  raise  the.  tunes  himself,  to  the  hymns  he 
used  in  Divine  worship.  He  had  a  fine  voice, 
clear,  musical,  and  cultivated.  One  of  Charles 
Wesley's  immortal  hymns,  on  his  lips,  as  the  leader 
of  some  fifteen  hundred  voices— half  of  them  voices 
of  the  blacks  in  the  crowded  galleries — sung  to  one 
of  the  old  congregational  melodies,  with  no  re- 
straints of  false  refinement,  has  many  a  time  car- 
ried the  assembly  to  heaven's  gate.  The  fervor 
and  fire  of  the  primitive  singing  were  never  sacri- 
ficed by  him  to  the  conventionalities  of  choir-sing- 
ing, where  a  half-dozen  voices  perform  for  the 
mute  congregation.  He  never  praised  God  vica- 
riously. He  never  encouraged  his  congregation  to 
do  by  proxy  this  part  of  their  duty.  He  would 
have  enjoyed  the  smack  of  the  following  bit  of  racy 
sarcasm  recently  let  off  by  a  somewhat  eccentric 


364 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


Congregational  minister  at  the  Xorth,  wlio  thus 
describes  his  feelings  while  attending  Divine  ser- 
vice at  a  Methodist  church':  "The  patient  congre- 
gation stood  up  meekly  to  be  sung  to,  as  men  stand 
under  rain  where  there  is  no  shelter.  Scarcely  a  lip 
moved.  No  one  seemed  to  hear  the  hymn,  or  to 
care  for  the  music.  How  I  longed  for  the  good  old 
Methodist  thunder !  One  good  burst  of  old- 
fashioned  music  would  have  blown  this  modern 
singing  out  of  the  windows,  like  wadding  from  a 
gun !  Men  may  call  this  an  improvement,  and 
genteel  I  Gentility  has  nearly  killed  our  churches, 
and  it  will  kill  Methodist  churches,  if  they  give 
way  to  its  false  and  pernicious  ambition.  "We  know 
very  well  what  good  old-fashioned. Methodist  music 
was.  It  had  faults  enough,  doubtless,  against 
taste;  but  it  had  an  invjard  purpose  and  a  religious  ear- 
nestness which  enabled  it  to  carry  all  its  faults,  and 
to  triumph  in  spite  of  them  !  It  was  worship.  Yes- 
terday's music  was  tolerable  singing,  but  very  poor 
worship.  We  are  sorry  that  just  as  our  churches 
are  beginning  to  imitate  the  former  example  of 
Methodist  churches,  and  to  introduce  melodies  that 
the  people  love,  and  to  encourage  universal  sing- 
ing in  the  congregation,  our  Methodist  brethren 
should  pick  up  our  cast-off  formalism  in  church 
music.  It  will  be  worse  with  them.  It  will  mark 
a  greater  length  of  decline." 

In  May,  1836,  Dr.  Capers  attended  the  session  of 
the  General  Conference,  held  at  Cincinnati.  The 
principal  interest  which  attaches  to  this  session  is 


SOUTHERN   CHRISTIAN   ADVOCATE.  365 

found  in  the  action  of  the  delegates  from  the 
various  Annual  Conferences,  on  the  subject  of 
abolitionism.  The  position  of  the  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church  on  that  question  was  defined  in  the 

^following  resolution,  adopted  by  a  vote  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty  in  favor,  and  fourteen  against : 
^'Resolved,  That  they  (the  delegates  of  the  An- 
nual Conferences)  are  decidedly  opposed  to  modern 

>  abolitionism,  and  wholly  disclaim  any  right,  wish, 
or  intention  to  interfere  in  the  civil  and  political 
relation  between  master  and  slave,  as  it  exists  in 
the  slaveholding  States  of  this  Union." 

To  modern  researches,  this  is  doubtless  a  pro- 
foundly mythical  passage  in  the  history  of  a  Church 
which  is  now  with  cool  effrontery  pronounced  at 
the  ITorth  to  have  been  always  abolitionist  to  the 
backbone. 

Resolutions  were  also  passed,  authorizing  the 
publication  of  a  weekly  religious  journal  at  Charles- 
ton, called  the  Southern  Christian  Advocate,  of 
which  Br.  Capers  was  elected  editor.  The  lapse 
of  ten  years  had  shown  that  a  great  central  organ 
at  Kew  York,  however  ably  conducted,  could  not 
supersede  the  home  demand  for  presses  in  distant 
but  influential  portions  of  the  Connection.  Besides, 
a  very  general  feeling  had  begun  to  pefvade  the 
Southern  States,  hostile  to  the  circulation  of 
!N"orthern  newspapers,  religious  as  well  as  secular. 
Many  of  these  were  preaching  up  a  crusade  against 
the  domestic  institutions  of  the  South  ;  and  self- 
defence  as  well  as  self-respect  demanded  that 


366 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


there  should  be  au  adequate  supply  of  Southern 
journals. 

The  first  number  of  the  Southern  Christian 
Advocate  was  published  June  21st,  1837.  Dr. 
Capers  found  himself  a  second  time  afloat  on  the* 
troubled  waters  of  editorial  life.  Although  he  con- 
tinued to  preach  every  Sunday,  yet  he  was  relieved  of 
the  cares  of  the  pastoral  work.  He  had  no  printing- 
office  :  the  paper  was  printed  by  a  publishing  house, 
by  the  job;  and  the  editor  acted  as  his  own  clerk 
in  keeping  the  accounts.  There  was  a  good  deal 
of  petty  drudgery  involved,  that  wasted  time  and 
tried  the  temper.  Supplies  of  cash  would  some- 
^  times  run  short  at  the  close  of  the  week.  Mistakes 
would  occasionally  get  into  the  mail-books.  His 
constitutional  sensitiveness  would  be  touched  at 
this  and  the  other  points  ;  and  then  he  would  write 
with  too  sharp  a  quill.  In  a  word,  journalism  did 
not  suit  the  genius  of  the  man.  A  sense  of  duty 
carried  him  along ;  but  he  could  hardly  bring  him- 
self up  to  the  full  appreciation  of  the  importance 
and  wide-reaching  influence  of  the  vocation.  He 
lacked  enthusiasm  and  inspiration.  He  did  not 
loarm  to  a  work  which  was  not  to  him  a  labor  of 
love.  He  fought  up  bravely,  however,  against  all 
discouragements  until  the  coming  on  of  the  ensu- 
ing General  Conference,  and  then  gave  up  journal- 
ism for  ever.  He  said  that  editorship  had  been 
*^a  furnace  of  insufferable  fires"  to  him.  "How 
could  I  be  willing  to  pass  what  of  life  remains  to 
me,  in  the  perpetual  irritations  of  the  last  three 


FIRE    IN  CHARLESTON. 


367 


years  ?  I  would  rather  wander  through  the  earth 
on  foot,  preaching  Christ,  than  he  the  editor  of  a 
religious  newspaper."  The  Southern  Christian 
Advocate  was,  nevertheless,  a  very  observable  im- 
provement on  the  Wesleyan  Journal.  His  edito- 
rials were  much  more  elaborate,  his  selections 
more  varied  and  adapted  to  the  popular  taste.  He 
stood  up  firmly  for  the-  rights  of  his  section  in  the 
ecclesiastical  connection.  He  was  earnest  and 
high-minded  in  his  advocacy  of  all  the  great 
measures  subsidiary  to  the  spread  of  Christian 
influence — educational,  missionary,  and  literary. 
Tor  complete  success,  however,  his  editorial  writ- 
ing lacked  dramatic  and  pictorial  power,  was  a 
trifle  too  polemical,  and  often  showed  that  the  pen 
moved  'Hnvitd  Minerva.'' 

Late  in  April,  1838,  a  disastrous  fire  took  place 
in  Charleston.  It  laid  in  ruins  the  richest  and 
most  populous  part  of  the  city,  destroying  three 
millions  of  property.  The  glare  of  the  conflagra- 
tion was  seen  eighty  miles  at  sea,  and  the  explo- 
sions in  blowing  up  houses  were  heard  eighteen 
miles  off.  Four  houses  of  worship  and  one  lecture- 
room  were  destroyed.  Among  these  jvas  Trinity 
Church,  a  wooden  building,  the  largest  of  the 
Methodist  churches  in  the  city.  The  old  church 
in  Cumberland  street  had  been  removed  a  short 
time  previously,  and  a  new  brick  church  was  in 
process  of  erection.  This  was  destroyed  also,  with 
the  workshop  of  the  contractor,  and  a  large  amount 
of  materials.    On  the  Sunday  after  the  fire,  the 


868 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


Methodists  held  service  in  the  market,  morning 
and  afternoon.  Dr.  Capers  officiating.  Crowds  of 
people  were  present,  and  the  worship  was  as  solemn 
and  undisturbed  as  though  it  had  been  held  in  a 
church.  The  congregation  of  St.  Philip's  Church 
(Protestant  Episcopalian)  immediately  and  very 
kindly  tendered  the  use  of  a  large  wooden  build- 
ing, called  the  Tabernacle,  to  the  destitute  Method- 
ist congregations ;  and  this  was  gratefully  accepted 
and  used  until  the  new  churches  were  erected.  -On 
the  30th  of  April,  a  meeting  of  the  members  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  was  held,  the  Rev. 
Bond  English,  preacher  in  charge,  in  the  chair; 
at  which  it  was  resolved  that  a  circular  should  be 
sent  to  the  ministers  of  the  South  Carolina  and 
Georgia  Conferences,  asking  assistance  in  rebuild- 
ing Trinity  and  Cumberland  Churches ;  and  that 
provision  should  be  made  for  employing  an  editor, 
pro  km.,  for  the  Southern  Christian  Advocate,  in 
order  that  Dr.  Capers  might  travel  through  the 
State  soliciting  aid  for  the  same  purpose. 

The  Doctor  cheerfully  accepted  this  mission  of 
mercy.  Mr.  English  edited  the  paper,  and  he  set 
out  on  a  tour  through  the  middle  and  upper 
districts  of  South  Carolina,  commencing  in  May, 
and  preaching  nearly  every  day,  sometimes  twice  a 
day,  until  the  close  of  July.  This  laborious  tour 
he  performed  on  horseback,  during  one  of  the 
hottest  summers  that  had  been  known  for  many 
years.  The  result  of  his  earnest  and  eloquent 
appeals  was,  in  subscriptions  and  cash,  the  noble 


CENTENARY   OF   METHODISM.  369 


Bum  of  thirteen  thousand  dollars  and  a  little  up- 
wards. He  had  the  pleasure  of  dedicating  Trinity 
Church  when  it  was  completed. 

The  year  1839  was  the  memorable  Methodistic  year, 
in  which  Methodism  completed  its  first  centennial 
period.  This  centenary  was  celebrated  throughout 
the  world  as  a  jubilee.  It  was  marked  as  an  occa- 
sion not  only  of  deep  religious  joy,  but  of  unpre- 
cedented liberality  on  the  part  of  the  members  and 
friends  of  the  Church.  The  originating  impulse 
Was  given  in  England,  where  a  million  of  dollars 
was  contributed  in  free-wiH  offerings  of  grateful 
love,  for  the  benefits  received  from  God,  through 
Methodist  instrumentalities;  the  key-note  having 
been  struck  by  the  first  contribution,  which  was  of 
a  thousand  guineas  by  a  widow  lady.  Dr.  Capers 
threw  himself  into  this  movement  with  character- 
istic energy.  Appeal  followed  appeal  in  the 
columns  of  the  Advocate ;  and  the  fervid  editorials 
stirred  up  answering  fire  in  every  direction.  The 
following  paragraph  is  a  specimen  : 

"^fever  was  there  such  a  time  for  exertion  in 
the  cause  of  charity  as  the  present,  or  a  time  when 
the  efforts  of  the  sons  of  benevolence  were  likely 
to  produce  so  rich  a  result.  The  Church  sum- 
mons all  her  children  to  her  assistance  in  a  great 
effort  to  place  her  institutions,  one  and  all,  on  a 
basis  answerable  to  their  importance,  and  that 
shall  give  them  the  measure  of  efficiency  they 
ought  to  possess,  g-like  for  her  advantage  and  the 
good  of  mankind.  The  appeal  is  irresistible. 
16* 


870 


LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


None  can  hold  back  from  the  performance  of  his 
duty,  or  advance  to  its  performance  with  a  divided 
heart.  '  The  divisions  of  Eeuben'  cannot  arise,  nor 
Gilead  abide  beyond  Jordan,  nor  Dan  remain  in 
his  ships,  nor  Asher  continue  on  the  sea-shore ;  but 
as  Zebulun  and  IsTaphtali,  we  will  all  go  up  to  the 
help  of  the  Lord  against  the  mighty.  Indeed,  we 
have  already  gone  up,  and  the  work  is  begun  in 
the  face  of  our  foes.  To  halt  or  retreat  we  cannot. 
The  shout  of  triumph  is  heard  in  our  van,  and  soon 
the  remotest  rear  shall  resound  with  the  voice  of 
thanksgiving.  But  let  us  be  doing.  Meetings  in 
every  town,  meetings  in  every  populous  country- 
place,  meetings  in  every  large  society:  let  there 
be  meetings  ;  and  at  once;  let  there  be  meetings." 

On  the  25th  October,  the  centenary  was  cele- 
brated with  religious  services  throughout  the 
country.  The  occasion  was  everywhere  realized 
as  a  time  of  special  spiritual  refreshment.  The 
contributions  in  the  Georgia  and  South  Carolina 
Conferences  largely  exceeded  one  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars.  Many  who  hailed  that  day  with  pious 
exultation,  have  passed  to  their  everlasting  homes 
above.  ISTone  of  those  who  took  part  in  those 
blessed  solemnities  shall  witness  the  dawn  of  the 
second  centenary  day.  But  they  have  bequeathed 
to  the  world  results  which  shall  move  on  to  the 
end  of  time. 


DR.    LOVICK   PIERCE.  371 


CHAPTER  XI. 

General  Conference  of  1840 — Conversion  of  his  son  William — Ap- 
pointed Missionary  Secretary  for  the  South — Preaches  the  funeral 
sermon  of  Mrs.  Andrew. 

The  General  Conference  of  1840  was  held  at 
Baltimore.  The  week  before  the  delegates  left 
Charleston,  there  was  a  camp-meeting  held  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  city.  The  venerable  Dr.  Lovick 
Pierce  was  one  of  the  preachers  from  a  distance 
who  were  present.  His  text  on  Sunday  was :  "  Be- 
cause iniquity  shall  abound,  the  love  of  many  shall 
wax  cold ;  but  he  that  endureth  to  the  end,  the 
same  shall  be  saved."  This  subject  was  handled 
with  the  skill,  force,  and  sweep  of  a  master  of 
pulpit  oratory.  The  causes  which  led  to,  the 
abounding  of  iniquity  were  traced  with  a  power 
of  delineation  absolutely  terrific  at  times ;  and 
particularly  so  when  the  preacher  came  to  consider 
the  blight  and  mildew  spread  over  society  by  the 
example  and  influence  of  public  men  who  had  no 
fear  of  G-od,  no  love  of  virtue.  Then  came,  in 
striking  contrast,  a  picture  of  the  militant  virtue 
which  treads  down  soft  effeminacy,  resists  to  the 


372 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


last  extremity  every  debasing  appetite,  and  main- 
tains to  the  end  its  purity,  loveliness,  and  dignity 
with  manly  valor ;  and  the  true  and  steadfast  love 
which  is  the  soul  of  all  piety — full  of  loyalty  to 
Christ — finding  in  God's  favor  its  highest  heaven 
of  enjoyment.  The  first  part  of  the  sermon  cut 
with  an  ^dge  of  steel  into  the  hoary  crest  of  social 
iniquity,  and  with  intrepid  spirit  and  full  strength 
clove  down  the  towering  front  of  hydra-headed 
vice;  the  latter  part  harnessed  the  coursers  of  the 
sun,  and  drove  the  victor  agonistes,  in  a  chariot  of 
fire,  to  the  gate  of  heaven.  Robert  UTewton  preached 
the  next  Sunday  in  the  Light  Street  Church  of 
Baltimore,  and  was  heard  by  several  who  had 
listened  to  Dr.  Pierce  at  the  camp-meeting.  The 
shade  of  the  great  Wesleyan  orator  will  pardon,  the 
writer  for  saying,  that  the  comparison  of  the  two 
efiibrts  was  wholly  in  favor  of  the  camp-meeting 
sermon. 

Among  those  who  were  brought  under  deep  reli- 
gious concern  at  the  meeting  just  referred  to,  was 
the  second  son  of  Dr.  Capers,  who ,  shortly  after- 
wards found  "the  pearl  of  great  price"  in  finding 
Christ  as  his  personal,  all-sufficient  Saviour.  He 
subsequently  entered  the  travelling  ministry  in  the 
South  Carolina  Conference.  Dr.  Capers,  who  was 
then  in  Baltimore  attending  the  General  Confer- 
ence, soon  received  the  intelligence  of  his  son's 
conversion.  This  threw  a,  gleam  of  unutterable 
joy  over  his  spirit.  He  wrote  immediately  to  "Wil- 
liam the  following  deeply  interesting  letter: 


CONVERSION   OF   HIS   SON   WILLIAM.  3T3 


"  My  very  dear  Son  : — When  I  wrote  to  you  a 
few  days  ago,  my  most  anxious  hope  had  not  antici- 
pated so  much — by  any  means  so  much — in  so 
short  a  time,  as  I  have  had  the  delightful,  nay,  rap, 
turous  pleasure  of  learning  from  Susan's  letter  by 
brother  Sewell  this-  day.  My  dear  boy,  hold  fast. 
As  sure  as  you  live,  and  there  is  a  soul  in  your 
body,  let  fools  say  what  they  will,  you  will  be  made 
for  both  worlds  if  you  hold  fast  the  mercy  you 
have  received,  and  acknowledge  always  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  Thousands  of  silver  and  gold  were 
as  nothing  to  this.  I  thank  God,  I  bless  his  holy 
name  with  joy  unspeakable,  that  he  gave  you 
courage  to  acknowledge  him  on  the  Tuesday  night 
at  the  altar  in  Trinity  Church,  on  Thursday  night, 
the  30th  April,  at  the  love-feast,  where  you  joined 
the  Church.  And  you  found  on  Saturday  night 
the  good  of  it,  when  you  found  peace  in  believing. 
Blessed  be  God !  -  "  . 

^'  You  must  never  give  back ;  and  that  you  may 
not,  you  mu&t  watch  against  evil  and  be  constant 
to  prayer.  Expect  to  be  tempted  much,  and  in 
every  way.  The  devil  will  seek,  nay,  seeks,  to 
destroy  you  by  every  plausible  suggestion,  and 
every  form  of  attack.  I  told  you  before  that  if 
you  felt  at  any  time  that  you  had  lost  ground,  or 
done  wrong,  or  in  any  way  grieved  the  Holy  Spirit, 
you  should  by  no  means  yield  to  discouragement, 
as  though  you  could  not  recover,  or  not  permanent- 
ly persevere,  but  renew  and  redouble  your  suppli- 
cations for  pardon  and  peace.    This  is  the  way  still, 


374 


LIFE   OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


and  will  always  be  the  way  for  you  to  liold  on  and 
not  fail.  But  now^  you  need  to  be  advised  against 
that  stratagem  of  your  enemy  by  which  he  almost 
universally  assails  young  converts,  and  frequently 
to  their  cost,  by  persuading  them  that  they  have 
been  mistaken,  and  have  not  experienced  a  genuine 
work  of  grace.  I  suffered  much  and  long  from 
this  quarter  myself.  But  without  waiting  to  reason 
about  the  matter,  carry  it  straight  to  the  throne  of 
grace,  and  ask  light  from  above.  ^Ask,  and  you 
shall  receive.'  But  if  you  even  fall  into  darkness 
of  mind,  and  even  if  you  are  sure  that  this  has 
been  induced  by  something  you  have  done  wrong, 
still,  as  I  have  said,  go  to  your  knees.  Go  and 
make  haste  to  confess  and  humble  yourself  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross,  and  you  shall  soon  have  light  and 
life  again.  I  am  glad  that  you  speak  to  brother 
Walker  freely.  Do  so  by  all  means.  Do  not  be 
backward  to  tell  him  all  that  troubles  you,  and  may 
God  most  graciously  bless  you.  Eead  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  pray  in  secret.  Guard  against  whatever 
might  betray  you  into  wrong  tempers,  and  be  con- 
stant to  your  class.  I  have  much  joy  of  you,  niy 
son,  and  pray  unceasingly  that  God  may  most 
graciously  bless  you  with  his  protection,  guidance, 
and  grace,  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  through  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord. 

"Your  rejoicing  father,         W.  Capers. 

"May  9,  1840." 

"William  was  then  about  fifteen  years  of  age  :  his 


CONCERN. FOR   HIS   SON.  375 

very  youth,  with  the  native;  vivacity  of  his  temper, 
gave  an  increased  depth  of  tenderness  and  solici- 
tude to  his  f^tther's  feelings  on  the  occasion  of  his 
making  a  religious  profession.  Two  days  after  the 
foregoing  letter  was  written,  Mrs.  Capers  received 
,Giie,  from  which  the  following  extract  will  show 
how  the  father's  heart  throbhed  on  with  the 
quickened  pulse  of  joy: 

"  What  can  I  write  to  you  about  so  properly  as 
about  William  ?  And  yet  I  do  not  suppose  I  need 
say  any  thing  to  impress  you  with  any  feeling  ad- 
ditional to  what  you  have  on  his  account.  O,  ^ow 
much  tenderness,  faithfulness,  and  continual  counsel 
he  must  reasonably  require  to  keep  him  steadily  on 
as  he  has  begun !  ITor  need  I  say  a  word  to  im- 
press you,  or  his  brother  or  sisters,  with  any  addi- 
tional feeling  to  what  you  have  of  the  infinite  im- 
portance to  him,  for  both  worlds,  of  his  maintaining 
his  religious  course.  If  William  holds  on,  and  you 
and  I  live  to  see  him  a  man,  we  shall  rejoice  for  the 
day  he  was  born.  A  nian  he  will  be,  to  bless  us 
and  the  Church  of  God.  O  no ;  I  write  not  to  ad- 
vise you  to  watch  over  him  with  continual  and 
faithful  tenderness,  advising  him,  joining  with  him 
in  religious  conversation  and  devotion,  and  the  like ; 
for  I  know  you  cannot  need  it — you  cannot  fail  of 
any  thing  in  your  power  to  do  for  him ;  but  I  write 
because  my  mind  and  heart  are  as  yours  are,  and  I 
can  scarcely  think  of  any  thing  but  William. 
Blessed  be  God  for  this  great  mercy,  and  may  his 
divine  goodness  keep  the  lad  for  evermore." 


376  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


A  couple  of  weeks  later  lie  says  :  "I  am  exceed- 
ing full  of  comfort  for  you  all,  so  that  often  as 
my  thoughts  go  home,  (and  that  is  as  often  as  they 
are  not  held  hack  on  business,)  they  salute  you  all 
with  an  emotion  which  nobody  else  could  feel. 
Sometimes  I  feel  as  if  my  warfare  was  accom- 
plished— or  as  if  I  had  reached  a  summit  on  my 
pilgrim-way  of  trouble  and  temptation,  and  saw 
the  clouds  and  darkness  which  had  persecuted  my 
soul  rolled  back  afar,  and  a  path  of  sunshine  open- 
ing before  me.  "William's  conversion  alone  has  given 
me,  as  it  were,  a  new  heavens  and  earth.  Take 
care  of  him  ;  make  allowances ;  be  faithful  to  him 
every  day  and  hour,  but  be  very  tender.  Blessed 
,be  the  Lord  God,  whose  mercy  is  everlasting." 

At  this  General  Conference,  Dr.  Capers  was  ap- 
pointed chairman  of  a  committee  to  prepare  a  letter 
to  the  British  Conference.  In  the  address,  which 
was  written  by  him,  the  position  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  in  reference  to  slavery — a  topic 
which  had  been  referred  to  in  the  Letter  of  the 
British  Conference — was  defined  in  the  following 
clear  and  emphatic  terms  : 

"  Of  these  United  States,  (to  the  government  and 
laws  of  which,  '  according  to  the  division  of  power 
made  to  them  by  the  Constitution  of  the  Union, 
and  the  Constitutions  of  the  several  States,'  we  owe 
and  delight  to  render  a  sincere  and  patriotic 
loyalty,)  there  are  several  which  do  not  allow  of 
slavery.  There  are  others  in  which  it  is  allowed, 
and  there  are  slaves ;  but  the  tendency  of  the  laws, 


SLAVERY   AND    ABOLITION.  377 


and  the  minds, of  the  majority  of  the  people,  are  in 
favor  of  emancipation.  But  there  are  others  in 
which  slavery  exists  so  universally,  and  is  so  closely 
interwoven  with  their  civil  institutions,  that  both 
do  the  laws  disallow  of  emancipation,  and  the  great 
body  of  the  people  (the  source  of  laws  with  us) 
hold  it  to  be  treasonable  to  set  forth  any  thing,  by 
word  or  deed,  tending  that  way.  Each  one  of  all 
these  States  is  independent  of  the  rest  and  sovereign, 
with  respect  to  its  internal  government,  (as  much 
so  as  if  there  existed  among  them  no  confederation 
for  ends  of  common  interest,)  and  therefore  it  is 
impossible  to  frame  a  rule  on  slavery  proper  for  our 
people  in  all  the  States  alike.  But  our  Church  is 
extended  through  all  the  States,  and  it  would  be 
wrong  and  unscriptural  to  enact  a  rule  of  discipline 
in  opposition  to  the  Constitution  and  laws  of  the 
State  on  this  subject;  so  also  would  it  not  be  equi- 
table or  scriptural  to  confound  the  positions  of  our 
ministers  and  people,  so  different  are  they  in  dif- 
ferent States,  with  respect  to  the  moral  question 
which  slavery  involves." 

When  the  Address  was  presented  to  the  General 
Conference  for  adoption,  a  division  was  called  for 
by  the  leader  of  the  abolitionist  party;  and  on 
counting  the  votes  for  the  adoption  of  the  portion 
relating  to  slavery,  one  hundred  and  fourteen  mem- 
bers voted  for  it,  and  eighteen  in  the  negative. 
This,  then,  was  the  position  of  the  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church  in  1840,  as  expounded  by  her  highest 
assembly. 


378  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

At  this  General  Conference  the  territory  of  the 
Church  was  divided  into  three  missionary  depart- 
ments, and  Dr.  Capers  was  ^appointed  secretary  for 
the  Southern  division.  The  general  interests  of 
the  missionary  work  within  this  district  were  in- 
trusted to  his  oversight;  and  in  the  performance 
of  his  official  duties,  it  was  necessary  that  he  should 
travel  at  large,  preach  on  the  subject,  and  hold  mis- 
sionary meetings,  attending,  besides,  as  many  ses- 
sions of  the  Annual  Conferences  as  possible.  This 
was  a  large  field  of  labor,  presenting  some  attract- 
ive features,  but  not  a  few  difficulties  and  discour- 
agements. It  entailed,  beyond  doubt,  protracted 
absences  from  home,  and  fatiguing  routes  of  travel. 
For  four  years  this  work  occupied  the  time  and 
attention  of  Dr.  Capers.  He  removed  his  family 
from  Charleston  to  Oxford,  Georgia,  and  attended, 
during  the  autumn  and  winter,  several  Conferences. 
In  the  spring  of  the  year  1841  he  made  an  exten- 
sive Western  tour,  leaving  Oxford  about  the  first 
of-  April,  and  visiting  Columbus,  Georgia,  Mont- 
gomery, Tuskaloosa,  Columbus,  Mississippi,  Jack- 
son, Yicksburg,  Grand  Gulf,  Port  Gibson,  Wash- 
ington, and  Xatchez.  This  journey  was  performed 
with  horse  and  sulky.  He  met  all  his  appointments, 
and  enjoyed  fine  health. 

In  a  letter  from  Xatchez  there  is  found  the  fol- 
lowing beautiful  passage :  "  0,  I  have  borne  the 
cross,  and  the  cross  sustains  me.  I  have  gone  back 
to  the  time  of  my  youth,  when  I  had  a  little  strength, 
and  have  felt  my  strength  renewed.    God  has  been 


LABORS   AS   MISSIONARY   SECRETARY.  379 

with  me  of  a  truth,  in  all  my  way ;  and  more  and 
more  has  he  heen  with  me.  Blessed  be  his  name. 
I  wish  ardently  for  but  one  thing— his  blessing 
upon  you  all,  and  his  guiding  hand,  even  as  he  has 
guided  me,  as  long  as  you  live,  and  for  ever.  "Will 
he  not  be  your  God  from  henceforth,  and  even  for 
evermore  ?  Surely  he  will.  Will  not  his  blessing, 
too,  prove  your  salvation  for  ever  ?  Trust  in  him. 
Let  all  my  house  fear  God  and  serve  him,  and  it 
shall  be  well  with  them,  for  he  hath  promised  it. 
The  blessing  of  God  Almighty,  given  in  Christ 
Jesus,  be  with  you." 

At  E"atchez  he  embarked  horse  and  sulky  on  a 
Mississippi  steamer,  and  reached  Memphis  on  the 
21st  May.  The  last  evening  he  spent  on  the  steam- 
boat, a  petition  from  the  ladies  was  handed  him  by 
Judge  Covington,  requesting  a  sermon.  With  this 
request  he  complied,  of  course,  preaching  on  a  text 
which  led  him  to  show  that  religion  is  founded' in 
knowledge,  and  not  in  ignorance  or  superstition ; 
and  to  press  the  necessity  of  applying  to  the  acquire- 
ment of  that  knowledge  in  the  only  way  in  which  it 
can  be  obtained. 

From  Memphis  he  visited  his  brother,  the  Eev. 
B.  H.  Capers,  in  Haywood  county,  spending  a  week 
with  him,  but  preaching  during  the  time,  at  Sum- 
merville  and  Brownsville.  Filling  an  appointment 
at  Jackson,  Tennessee,  on  the  last  Sunday  of  May, 
he  spent  the  following  Sunday  at  iNTashville ;  and 
preaching  in  the  prominent  towns  on  his  return 
route,  he  reached  home  the  last  of  June.    In  the 


380 


LIFE   OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


autumn  he  made  another  three  months'  tour,  through 
the  Carolinas  and  Virginia,  attending  the  session 
of  the  Virginia  Conference  at  Portsmouth.  This 
route  carried  him  through  the  scenes  of  his  youth'. 
One  of  his  appointments  was  at  Lodebar,  Sumter 
District,  South  Carolina.  He  says:  "I  preached 
to  a  respectably  large  congregation,  in  which  there 
were  but  two  individuals  who  belonged  to  the 
neighborhood,  even  so  late  as  1821.  is'ot  one 
grown  person  of  those  days  is  left.  I  visited  the 
hallowed  spot  where  my  father,  and  wife,  and  first 
son,  and  brother-in-law  lie  buried — visited  it  alone, 
and  felt  the  humbling  lesson  of  the  grave.  Ah, 
me !  why  am  I  not  more  holy  ?  I  can  never  live 
in  that  neighborhood;  and  yet  I  feel  an  inde- 
scribable interest  in  it.  It  seems  to  be  curtained 
with  grave-clothes ;  every  thing  serving  to  remind 
me  of  the  dead." 

In  January,  1842,  Dr.  Capers  attended  the  ses- 
sion of  the  South  Carolina  Conference  at  Char- 
lotte. He  was  much  encouraged  by  the  decided 
opinion  expressed  by  Bishop  "Waugh  that  his  labors 
as  Missionary  Secretary  were  eminently  useful,  and 
ought  by  no  means  to  be  discontinued.  He  says : 
"I  hope  it  may  be  actually  so.  Truly,  it  is  not 
pleasant  to  the  flesh  to  be  so  continually  going, 
and  to  so  great  distances  from  home ;  nor  is  it  in 
any  way  desirable  to  be  placed  in  an  almost  bound- 
less field,  where  at  every  point  work  is  wanted  to 
be  done,  and  one  can  do  so  little  for  the  whole. 
But  the  great  consideration  is  to  be  useful ;  and  if 


,    FUNERAL  SERMON  OF  MRS.  ANDREW.  381 

in  this  wide  field  I  can  be  more  useful  than  in  an- 
other, well;  let  me  still  give  myself  and  serve  on.'* 
In  April  he  visited  the  missions  to  the  blacks  in 
South  Carolina,  and  then  went  to  'New  York, 
where  he  attended  the  anniversary  of  the  Mission- 
ary Society.  "The  brethren  here,"  he  says, 
"receive  me  with  great  kindness,  and  no  one 
with  more  than  brother  Lane,  Dear,  good  man, 
I,reckon  I  shall  never  meet  him  while  I  live,  with- 
out remembering  the  mattress  on  the  floor,  on 
which  his  honored  bones  were  put  wearily  to  rest 
in  our  house,  once,  in  Charleston." 

In  June,  by  invitation  of  Bishop  Andrew,  Dr. 
Capers  preached  the  funeral  sermon  of  the  lamented, 
Mrs.  Andrew — a  lady  of  peculiar  excellences  of 
mind  and  heart,  the  closing  scene  of  whose  life  is 
thus  described  by  Dr.  Lohgstreet:  "For  many 
months  before  her  death  she  looked  forward  to 
her  approaching  dissolution  with  calmness  and 
composure ;  but  entertaining  no  higher  hopes,  it 
is  believed,  than  to  die  in  peace  and  without  fear. 
But  about  a  week  before  she  was  taken  from  earth, 
it  pleased  God  to  give  her  such  a  bright  manifesta- 
tion of  his  presence,  and  of  her  acceptance,  that 
she  broke  forth  into  shouts  of  triumph.  Thence- 
forth her  little  strength  was  spent  in  glorifying 
God,  calling  on  her  friends  to  rejoice  with  her, 
encouraging  Christians,  counselling  sinners,  and 
consoling  her  family.  For  the  remaining  week  of 
her  life,  no  cloud  intervened  between  £er  and 
heaven.     In  response  to  a  brother's  question, 


382  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

when  slie  could  no  longer  speak,  she  signified  by 
repeated  motions  of  the  head  that  God  was  still 
near  to  her,  and  that,  her  way  was  clear.  She  em- 
braced religion  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  cherished  it 
for  about  thirty-three  years,  and  died  in  its  triumphs, 
in  her  forty-sixth  year." 


SOUTH-WESTERN  TOUR. 


383 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Removes  from  Oxford  to  Charleston — Makes  the  tour  of  the  South- 
western Conferences — ^Visits  his  aunt  in  Kentucky — Incidents  of 
travel— Maum  Rachel. 

In  the  latter  part  of  1842,  Dr.  Capers  removed 
his  family  from  Oxford  to  Charleston.  lu  the 
spring  of  the  following  year,  after  having  attended 
the  sessions  of  several  Conferences  during  the 
winter,  he  made  a  tour  of  the  missionary  stations 
in  the  low  country.  Frequent  articles  appeared 
from  his  pen  in  the  Southern  Christian  Advocate 
on  the  subject  of  missions,  during  the  summer. 
In  July,  his  daughter,  Susan  Bethia,  was  married 
to  Professor  Stone,  of  Emoiy  College.  About  the 
middle  of  September,  he  set  out  on  a  long  Western 
tour,  and  was  absent  from  home  nearly  five  months. 
'He  attended  the  sessions  of  the  South-western 
Conferences,  beginning  with  the  Tennessee  Con- 
ference, held  at  Gallatin. 

Having  time  between  the  session  of  the  Tennessee 
and  Memphis  Conferences  to  make  a  brief  visit  to  a 
venerable  relative  whom  he  had  never  seen,  he  left 
Nashville  on  the  night  of  the  2Tth  October.  There 
had  been  snow  in  the  course  of  the  day.  "  So, 
taking  the  hint,"  he  says,  "I  bought  a  Mackinaw 
blanket  to  wrap  up  in  for  the  night,  in  the  stage. 


384 


LIFE    OP   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


The  stage,  however,  proved  to  be  a  nondescript 
vehicle,  more  like  a'  wagon  than  a  coach,  made 
for  a  road  which  defied  all  springs,  and  tested  the 
ntmost  strength  of  any  thing  that  could  be  made 
of  wood  and  iron;  and  such  was  the  violence  of 
the  jolting  over  rocks  imbedded  in  mud,  that 
neither  blanket  nor  cloak  could  I  keep  wrapped 
about  me,  but  had  to  use  arms,  and  hands,  and  feet 
to  sustain  myself  against  the  bounding,  thumping 
stage,  that  it  should  not  bruise  me.  The  driver 
was  young  and  reckless — one  of  the  sort  to  see 
better  and  drive  faster  in  the  dark  than  in  day- 
light; so  about  two  o'clock  in  the  night,  he  ran 
out  of  the  road  and  upset  us  in,  fortunately,  one  of 
the  few  spots  where  it  was  all  mud  and  no  rocks. 
"No  harm  happened  by  the  upset,  except  that  being 
in  the  mud  was  an  increase  of  my  exposure,  in  a 
night  when  (so  soon  after  summer)  the  ground  was 
hard  with  frost  and  the  water  covered  with  ice.  I 
took  cold,  of  course." 

He  found  Mrs.  Allen  at  Eussellville.  She  was 
the  only  surviving  sister  of  his  mother :  a  venerable 
lady,  seventy-five  years  of  age,  who  had  not  seen  a 
single  member  of  her  family  after  leaving  South 
Carolina,  fifty  years  previously.  She  had  been, 
from  the  formation  of  the  first  Methodist  Society 
in  the  parishes  of  her  native  State,  true  and  steady 
in  her  Christian  profession ;  and  was,  perhaps,  the 
onl}^  individual  at  that  time  alive  of  the  generation 
who  grew  up  with  her  in  the  section  of  country 
where  she  was  born.    "I  mean,"  said  the  Doctor, 


LOVE   TO    HIS    MOTHER.  385 

"for  my  dear  mother's  sake,  to  go  and  sit  down 
with  her,  and  let  her  talk  it  all  over  her  own  way, 
for  a  day  at  least."  He  enjoyed  the  visit  very 
much.  It  carried  him  hack  to  the  days  qf  qhild- 
hood,  and  stirred  the  memory  of  life's  ^  young 
dreams.  His  aunt's  face  recalled  the  early  vision 
of  a  mother's  smiles.  "I  find  myself,"  he  said 
after  the  interview,  "more  than  ever  curious  to 
know  my  mother.  Surely  when  I  get  to  heaven, 
(for  I  do  expect  to  get  there,)  it  will  be  the  very 
first  recognition  I  shall  seek  to  nlake :  if  my  dear 
Anna  should  not  rather  be  first  among  created 
ones.  I  never  knew  my  mother  since  my  infant 
smiles  to  her  caresses.  She  died  as  soon  as  I 
could  call  her  name.  But  I  cannot  tell  how  much 
I  love  my  mother;  and  I  feel  that  it  is  more  and 
more  as  I  grow  older.  Shall  I  not  know  that  she 
is  my  mother,  in  the  world  above  ?  I  think  I  shall. 
And  if  so,  shall  I  introduce  to  her  those  whom  God 
has  given  me,  those  who  have  gone  before  me ;  or 
will  she  know  me,  an  old  man,  for  the  infant  she  left, 
and  bring  my  wife  and  children  to  meet  me  ?  There 
is  a  veil  upon  it,  not  to  be  lifted  before  the  time. 
But  0,  let  us  make  haste,  sure  haste  to  that  time. 
Our  friends  will  not  be  in  the  way  of  our  supreme 
and  infinite  adoration  of  the  Lord  our  Redeemer, 
our  God  and  Saviour,  in  that  world.  They  need 
not  be  in  this  world,  though  we  know  them  and 
love  them  with  the  utmost  ardor.  May  God  keep 
us  by  his  grace,  and  then  we  shall  be  sure  to  find 
that  whatever  may  be  the  constitution  of  our 
13 


386 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


nature  in  the  life  to  come,  it  shall  be  what  is  infi- 
nitely happiest  for  us,  and  most  to  the  glory  of 
God." 

0  this  mysterious,  awful  shadow,  this  veil  which 
hides  the  great  eternal  hereafter ;  how  we  long  to 
get  one  glimpse  beyond  it !  How  imagination, 
conjecture,  inquiry,  seek  to  pierce  the  dark  frontier 
which  divides  the  stupendous  realities  of  the  future 
state  from  our  present  earthly  condition !  And 
these  human  affections  of  ours,  how  ardently  they , 
desire  to  know  that  departed  friends,  whose 
memories  we  cherish  so  fondly,  do  actually  feel  for 
us  a  kind  and  heightened  interest  even  amidst  the 
amazing  scenes  of  the  world  of  spirits  !  There  is 
good  ground  for  the  confident  assurance  that  they 
do.  "I  sometimes  wonder,"  said  a  profound 
thinker,  John  Foster,  "that  religious  teachers 
advert  so  little  in  any  distinct  terms  to  the  state 
immediately  after  death,  which  inspiration  has  so 
expressly  asserted  to  be  a  state  of  consciousness, 
and  of  happiness  to  faithful  souls." 

Some  of  the  incidents  of  travel  on  his  return 
route.  Dr.  Capers  thus  describes:  "I  left  Colum- 
bus, Mississippi,  on  ISTew  Year's  day,  encouraged,  by 
the  few  days  of  fair  weather  of  the  previous  week, 
to  hope  that  I  might  reach  Montgomery,  by  the 
way  of  Greensboro  and  Selma,  by  stage.  But  the 
rain  was  again  upon  us  like  a  flood,  and  after 
travelling  only  twenty-three  miles,  the  driver  firmly 
told  me  I  could  go  no  farther.  The  river,  of  course, 
was  my  alternative;  and  to  the  river  I  went  in 


WESTERN   HOSPITALITY.  ,  387 

search  of  a  boat.  The  evening  of  the  3d  found  me 
on  the  western  shor6  of  the  Tombighee,  live  miles 
from  its  junction  with  the  Alabama,  where  I  was 
in  hope  of  a  passage  in  the  boat  of  that  evening  up 
the  Alabama.  I  had  been  told  of  clever  accommo- 
dations at  my  stopping-place  ;  and  what  I  found  I 
will  now  relate  as  a  specimen  of  Western  hospi- 
tality. There  was  a  comfortable  dwelling,  kitchen, 
etc. ;  but  the  proprietors  had  abandoned  the  place 
on  account  of  its  sickliness,  and  were  living  two 
or  three  miles  back  in  the  pine  woods.  An  old 
negro  man,  left  in  charge  of  the  iDuildings,  was  the 
only  resident.  His  kitchen  fire  was  warm ;  he 
talked  of  cooking  something  for  my  *reberence,' 
which  I  declined ;  and  I  was  returning  his  proffered 
kindness  with  a  word  about  his  soul,  when  a  fine- 
looking  man  entered.  He  was  the  proprietor,  who 
had  been  all  day  engaged  in  loading  a  boat  some- 
where in  the  neighborhood,  and  going  home  a  little 
after  night,  was  induced  to  stop  by  the  sight  of  a 
traveller's  trunk  in  a  corner  of  his  piazza.  "We 
were  mutually  unknown,  and  I  only  wanted  a  fire 
on  the  bank  of  the  river,  where  I  could  await  the 
arrival  of  the  steamer.  But  no  such  thing.  A  fire 
must  be  made  in  the  house,  and  he  would  make  it. 
'  But,  sir,  you  have  been  with  your  boat  all  day 
long,  without  any  thing  to  eat ;  you  had  better  go 
home.'  '  That  is  nothing,  compared  to  your  being 
here  without  any  supper.  I'll  make  you  a  fire, 
and  then  I  will  go.'  So  the  fire  was  made,  and  we 
chatted  freely,  interrupted,  however,  with  frequent 


388 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


expressions  of  regrets  by  mine  host  that  I  should 
find  nothing  to  eat,  and  as  frequent  remonstrances 
on  m  J  part  against  his  remaining  so  late  from  home, 
when  he  must  be  hungry,  and  Mrs.  B.  uneasy 
about  him.  It  took  me  an  hour  to  prevail  on  him 
to  go.  And  my  next  care  was  to  extinguish  the 
fire,  and  remove  my  quarters  to  the  bank  of  the 
river.  Here  I  was,  seated  on  my  trunk  over  a 
blazing  fire,  at  nine  o'clock  P.  M.,  when  lo,  my 
host  was  again  upon  me,  and  with  him  a  lovely 
young  woman,  his  wife.  His  supper  had  long  been 
waiting  for  him,  and  as  I  could  not  be  induced  to 
go  and  share  it  with  him,  the  good  lady  had 
resolved  to  bring  a  cup  of  cofiee  to  the  old  preacher 
where  he  was.  It  was  a  moonlight  night,  though 
cloudy.  Only  a  plea&ant  ride  on  horseback,  she 
insisted.  And  again  I  was  removed  to  the  house. 
And  now  that  troublesome  trunk.  It  must  not  be 
left  at  the  river,  but  taken  to  the  house,  and  Mr.  B. 
must  carry  it.  I  protested,  and  took  hold  on  a  strap ; 
but  he  would  have  it  to  himself,  fairly  on  his 
shoulder,  without  any  partnership  in  the  load. 
There  we  were  then,  again  in  the  house,  with  the 
addition  of  an  elegant  woman  to  our  company ; 
(for  such  was  Mrs.  B.,  if  I  know  what  makes  an 
elegant  woman ;)  and  we  talked  away  as  if  each 
meant  to  find  out  every  thing  that  concerned  the 
other,  right  away.  Presently  the  X->uffing  noise  of  a 
steamer  was  heard,  and  seizing  a  torch,  I  ran  for 
the  river;  Mrs.  B.  running  step  for  step  with  me, 
and  ]VIr.  B.  (fine  fellow)  bearing  the  trunk  without 


WESTERN  HOSPITALITY. 


389 


my  knowledge  of  his  doing  so.  The  boat  was 
racing,  and  would  not  stop  to  take  me.  And  now 
it  was  eleven  o'clock  at  night.  Mrs.  B.  had  left  a 
sick  child  at  home,  and  in  all  conscience  I  thought 
she  must  have  had  enough  of  the  old  parson. 
Would  she  not  go  home  ?  Did  she  mean  to  sit 
there  all  night?  'Madam,'  said  I,  ^you  say  this  is 
not  your  house  because  you  cannot  accommodate 
me  in  it:  suppose  then  you  allow  me  to  take 
possession.  Have  you  any  objection,  Mr.  B.  V 
^^o,  no,'  she  exclaimed,  anticipating  him,  'he  has 
no  objection.  It  is  your  house,  and  we  are  only 
your  visitors.'  'Very  well,'  I  replied:  'then  let 
me  tell  you,  madam,  that  it  is  past  eleven  o'clock  ; 
you  are  three  miles  from  home ;  you  have  a  sick 
child ;  and  it  is  time  for  you  to  make  your  election 
between  going  home  and  going  to  bed,  if  you  can 
find  bed  and  bedclothes  about  my  house.'  At 
about  midnight  they  went  home ;  and  some  hours 
after  I  got  aboard  a  steamboat,  never  more  deeply 
impressed  with  Western  hospitality.  Mr.  B.  was 
a  graduate  of  the  University  of  Alabama,  and  Mrs. 
B.  had  been  educated  at  G-eorgetown,  D.  C. 

"Did  you  ever  get  aboard  one  of  their  double- 
engine  steamboats,  by  a  yawl,  on  a  dark  night? 
If  not,  be  reminded  to  take  care  when  you'  do. 
The  moon  was  down  before  the  Southerner  an- 
swered my  waving  torchlight,  and  sent  her  yawl 
to  fetch  me  aboard.  I  had  before  noticed  the  quick- 
ness of  their  movements  on  like  occasions  on  those 
waters,  and  as  the  men  were  pulling  for  the  boat, 


390 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


I  begged  tiieni  to  take  care  of  me  in  getting  aboard, 
and  not  be  too  quick  to  sing  out '  ready  ;  '  for  I  am 
no  longer  active,  my  good  fellows,'  said  I,  'and  will 
need  more  time  than  a  younger  man  might.' 
'You  shall  have  your  time,  sir,'  answered  one  of 
them,  'and  I  will  see  you  all  safe.'  And  he  was 
as  good  as  his  word,  or  that  had  been  my  last 
adventure. 

"There  are  two  engines  employed  to  propel  those 
boats,  and  they  are  placed  on  the  main  deck,  next 
to  the  wheels.  The  boats  have  two  stories  or 
decks,  like  long,  two-storied,  flat-roofed  houses, 
built  on  their  decks,  as  wide  as  their  hulls.  The 
lower  of  these  stories  is  used  for  carrying  freight, 
and  in  the  present  case  the  freight  was  cotton ; 
while  the  upper  story  forms  the  habitable  part  of 
the  boat.  The  freight,  cotton  bales,  was  separated 
from  the  engines  by  an  open  framework,  and  filled 
the  entire  space  between  them,  and  to  the  ceiling, 
except  sixteen  or  eighteen  inches  along  one  side, 
next  to  the  enclosure  of  the  starboard  engine.  I 
had  never  observed  where  the  engines  were  placed 
on  board  these  boats,  or  how  the  boatmen  passed 
from  place  to  place  on  that  lower  deck ;  but,  taking 
it  for  granted  all  was  plain  and  easy,  having  gained 
the  deck  from  the  yawl  at  the  stern  of  the  boat,  I 
was  making  my  way  before  the  man  with  my  trunk 
to  the  steps  forward  of  the  wheelhouse,  when  the 
engineer  let  off  steam,  and  filled  the  whole  place  with 
a  mist  so  thick  that  I  could  not  see.  It  was  just 
at  the  moment  the  man  at  the  yawl  cried  out,  'All 


RACHEL  WELLS. 


391 


ready,'  and  precisely  as  I  had  reached  the  point  of 
the  squeezing  passage  between  the  cotton  bales  and 
the  engine.  The  passage  I  could  not  see  ;  but  the 
engine  being  yet  at  rest,  with  the  huge  beam  they 
call  the  pitman  lying  horizontally  just  at  my  feet, 
I  took  that  for  the  way,  and  was  actually  stepping 
6n  it,  when  the  man  behind  seized  and  drew  me 
back.  The  pilot's  bell  had  already  jingled,  and  the 
engineer's  answered  to  it,  so  that  a  few  seconds 
more  showed  me  the  pitman  I  was  going  to  walk 
on,  lifted  to  the  ceiling  as  a  great  arm  turning  the 
wheels  of  the  boat.  How  nigh  had  been  death,  and 
how  unsuspected !" 

While  Dr.  Capers  was  Missionary  Secretary,  the 
following  incident  occurred  in  Charleston,  which 
deeply  affected  him :  There  was  living  in  Anson 
street  a  saintly  old  colored  woman,  named  Rachel 
"Wells.  She  had  been  a  member  of  the  Methodist 
Church  for  many  years,  and  been  a  pattern  of  piety 
in  humble  life.  Her  patience  and  faith,  her  good 
works  and  consistent  example,  had  been  long 
known  to  Dr.  Capers,  who  held  her  in  high  regard. 
Some  years  previously,  while  in  charge  of  the 
Charleston  Station,  he  had  occasion  to  visit  Aunt 
Eachel,  and  gave  the  following  account  •  of  the  in- 
terview :  "  She  had  fallen  down  the  stepdadder 
which  served  for  stairs,  and  struck  an  eye  with  so 
much  force  as  almost  to  put  it  out,  inflicting  ex- 
cruciating pain,  and  endangering  her  life  by  in- 
flammation. It  was  at  a  time  when  our  worthiest 
and  ablest  ministers  happened  to  be  in  the  city, 


392 


r.IFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPEES. 


waiting  for  a  passage  by  ship  to  'New  York,  on 
their  way  to  a  General  Conference,  and  we  had  ser- 
vice in  Trinity  Church  every  evening,  greatly  to 
our  refreshment.  '  Sorry  to  see  you  in  so  sad  a  case, 
Maum  Rachel,'  saidi,  as  I  approached  her  little  cham- 
ber, from  which  almost  every  ray  of  light  had  been 
excluded  on  account  of  the  painfulness  of  her  eye. 
'  Sorry  I  am,  very  sorry  for  you  ;  and  the  more,  that 
this  bad  accident  should  have  happened  just^now, 
w^hen  we  are  having  such  good  meetings  every  night 
in  Trinity.  You  would  be  so  happy  if  you  could 
be  with  us  there.' 

" '  I  hear  of  de  meetin,  sir,'  she  answered,  'and 
t'ank  God  for  'em  for  you  sake;  but  as  for  me,  I 
hab  no  need  o'  dem.  I  couldn't  do  widout  Trinity 
Church  before,  and  while  I  well  I  neber  off  my 
seat  da,  day  or  night ;  but  since  dis  ting  come  'pon 
me  you  call  bad  accident,  I  hab  no  need  of  Trinity 
Church  any  more ;  t'ank  -God,  my  blessed  Jesus 
hab  shorter  way  to  me  now  dan  by  Trinity  Church. 
All  he  do  for  me  wid  de  meetin  befo-time,  he  do 
for  me  now  widout  de  meetin ;  and  more  too,  bless 
de  Lord.' "  .  ; 

On  the  occasion  referred  to.  Dr.  Capers 

went  to  see  Aunt  Rachel.  .  -  Part  of  the  conversation 
was  in  the  following  w'SMs  :  "Alluding  to  her 
seeming  solitude,  she  said :  '  Time  was  when  I  had 
some  'boiit  me,  but  God  please  to  tek  dem  from 
me.  But  I  quite- resign.  "When  de  las  one  gone,  I 
feel  my  heart  begin  to  sick  an  fret.  But  I  tink, 
what  dis?    If  I  fret,  who  I  fret  'gainst?  My 


RACHEL  WELLS. 


398 


chiren  gon,  but  my  fricrC  tck  'em.  I  pan't  fret 
■gainst  my  fricn'.  Den  I  lif  up  my  heart  and  say, 
Well,  Lord,  you  got  'em  all  now;  you  aint  lef  me 
one.  i^ow  den  ym  come  stay  wid  me,  and  I  no 
care.  I  tek  you  now  in  place  o'  all  dem  yoM  tek 
from  me.  So  lie  come  to  me  closer  dan  eber,  an  I 
neber  want  for  anybody  else.' 

"  She  gave  me  a  pretty  thought  of  the  perpetuity 
of  Christian  zeal  beyond  the  present  state.  Speak- 
ing of  our  late  lamented  Kennedy,  she  said : 

"  '  Well,  Mr.  Kennedy  he  keep  go  and  neber  stop 
till  he  drop  down  in  de  Master  work.  So  you  must 
do  too.  All  de  dear  minister  what  used  to  work 
wid  him  must  do  so  too.  Mr.  Kennedy  gone,  but 
dat  spirit  Mr.  Kennedy  had  he  carry  wid  him. 
And  you  tink  Mr.  Kennedy  do  notin'  in  heaven  ? 
He  no  Stan  still  for  God  here,  he  no  stan  still  dere. 
He  ihinisterin'  spirit.  He  fly  like  de  angel  to  help 
de  work  on.' 

"  Taking  leave  of  her,  she  slipped  a  half-dollar 
into  my  hand.  *  The  poor  have  the  gospel  preached 
unto  them,  and  the  poor  are  the  principal  supporters 
of  the  gospel,'  said  I,  as  I  perceived  the  piece  she 
had  deposited  with  me. 

"'I  take  this  the  more  thankfully  for  the  mis^- 
sions,  because,  in  these  hard  times,  it  is.  very  sel- 
dom I  have  money  put  into  my  hand  unasked,  even 
for  so  good  a  cause ;  and  may  God  repay  you  mani- 
fold in  this  present  life.' 

"  'Dat,  sir,  if  you  please,  you  tek  for  a  token  o' 
17* 


394  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

de  lub  I  liab  for  you  for  Christ  sake.  T'ank 
God,  I  hab  dis  oder  one  for  de  missionary — all  for 
Christ.' 

"I  felt  exceedingly  humble,"  added  the  Doctor. 
"The  missions  were  worthy  Maum  Rachel's  half- 
dollar,  I  knew ;  I  felt  that  I  was  not." 

Let  no  one  say  that  Christianity,  before  the  sub- 
lime truths  of  which  an  archangel  might  well  stand 
uncovered,  is  not  at  the  same  time  adapted  to  the 
intellectual  capacity  of  the  lowliest  of  the  children 
of  earth.  Could  a  synod  of  divines  have  set  forth 
more  strikingly  the  true  doctrine  in  regard  to  "  the 
means  of  grace"  than  Maum  Rachel  did?  They 
were  necessary  for  her  in  ordinary  circumstances, 
but  providentially  precluded  from  them,  the  blessed 
Jesus  had  a  shorter  way  to  her  than  by  Trinity 
Church !  What  a  depth  of  divine  philosophy  is 
unfolded  in  the  thought,  so  clearly  conceived, 
though  uttered  in  broken  English ! 

And  where  can  we  find  the  evangelical  ground 
for  resignation  under  the  loss  of  friends  and 
children  more  touchingly  presented  to  view  than  in 
the  sublime  idea  that  a  Divine  friend  has  removed 
them,  and  loyalty  to  that  friend  demands  unques- 
tioning submission  to  behests  that  must  be  kind  as 
well  as  wise  ?  And.  then  humble  love  comes  closer 
to  that  Divine  friend,  and  takes  him  in  the  place  of 
all  who  had  been  taken  away,  and  finds  more  than 
all  in  the  more  intimate  fellowship  of  the  spirit 
with  him. 


RACHEL   WELLS.  395 

It  miglit  be  supposed  tliat  in  tlie  mind  of  an  illit- 
erate African  woman,  any  notion  of  the  employ- 
ments of  the  heavenly  world  must  of  necessity 
be  very  crude  and  material  —  rest  from  labor, 
abodes  of  indoleni  pleasure,  the  antithesis  in  its 
glittering  types  of  sensuQus  enjoyment  to  the  stern 
conditions  of  the  earthly  lot.  E'ot  a  word  of  it  in 
the  instance  of  Rachel  Wells.  There  is  more  than 
Miltonic  grandeur  in  the  thought  that  the  faithful 
minister  of  Christ  carries  with  him  into  the  eternal 
state  the  spirit  which  prompted  and  sustained  a  life 
of  laborious  zeal  for  Christ.  That  spirit  never 
faltered  here;  its  wing  of  active  exertion  never 
drooped ;  a  subordinate  agent  in  the  plans  of  the 
Divine  economy,  it  never  stood  still  for  God  on 
earth.  Trained  into  habitual  vigor  by  the  prepar- 
atory discipline  of  the  present  life,  that  same  spirit 
will  not  stand  still  in  the  celestial  world.  A  min- 
istry of  benevolent  enterprise,  embodying  modes 
of  action,  sentiment,  affection,  that  have  been 
trained  on  earth,  measures  out  the  successive  stages 
of  its  jubilant  ascent  on  the  path  of  eternal  life. 
"We  may  clothe  the  thought  in  the  starry  robes  of 
gorgeous  language ;  or  we  may  look  at  it  in  the 
severe  simplicity  of  the  most  homely  words,  it  is 
very  much  the  same.  It  is  a  thought  that  we  do 
not  find  in  all  the  imperial  range  of  Greek  and 
Roman  and  Oriental  learning — nowhere  outside  of. 
the  Book  of  God, 

The  reader  is  sufficiently  interested,  we  trust,  in 
Rachel  Wells,  to  allow  us  to  add  a  word  or  two 


396  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

more.  She  was  at  tlie  time  of  tier  death.  August, 
18-19,  the  oldest  member  of  the  Charleston  Me- 
thodist church,  white  or  colored.  She  was  the  first 
colored  person  who  joined  the  society,  at  the  time 
when  the  first  religious  meetings  were  held  at  the 
house  of  her  master,  Mr.  Edgar  Wells.  She  saw 
the  foundation  laid  of  the  first  Cumberland  Street 
Church— a  year  or  two  after  the  close  of  the  war  of 
the  Revolution.  She  outlived  two  generations  of 
Methodists,  a  beautiful  example  of  the  power  of 
religion  to  make  a  servant  upright  and  happy.  A 
short  time  before  her  death,  we  had  the  pleasure 
of  an  interview  with  her.  She  conversed  just  as 
one  likes  to  hear  an  aged  disciple  talk.  Her 
thoughts  seemed  equally  divided  between  the  past 
and  the  future.  She  told  us  the  story  of  the  first 
planting  of  Methodism  in  Charleston ;  and  dwelt 
with  affectionate  reverence  upon  the  memory  of 
her  master,  who  was  instrumental  in  bringing  her 
to  God.  The  anticipation  of  meeting  him  and  the 
various  members  of  the  family,  in  heaven,  gave 
transport  to  her  heart.  But  after  indulging  for  some 
moments  anticipations  that  rested  on  human  rela- 
tionships, she  added,  that  all  this  was  nothing  in 
comparison  to  the  joy  she  felt  in  the  prospect  of 
meeting  that  Saviour  who  died  for  her,  whose  like- 
ness God's  word  assured  her  she  should  for  ever 
bear.  This  love  of  Christ  was  to  her,  as  it  has 
been  to  millions,  the  antidote  to  death.  Kindled  in 
her  heart  at  her  conversion  to  God  in  earl}^  life,  it 
had  been  the  guiding  light,  the  protecting  glory 


RACHEL    WELLS.  ^ 


397 


of  a  religious  profession  extending  through  seventy 
years,  and,  with  a  ray  serene  as  the  morning  star, 
it  shone  upon  the  last;  hour  of  mortal  life,  then 
brightened  into  immortality. 


398 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

General  Conference  at  IS'ew  York— Debate  on  Finley's  resolution — 
Incipient  measures  for  a  division  of  the  Church. 

'Near  the  close  of  April,  1844,  Dr.  Capers  left 
Charleston  to  attend  the  General  Conference,  held 
at  New  York,  as  one  of  the  delegates  from  the 
South  Carolina  Conference.  His  home  during  the 
session  was  at  the  residence  of  Mr.  Fletcher  Har- 
per, where  he  found  his  friends  Olin  and  Durbin. 
The  anti-slavery  fanaticism  of  the  Eastern  and 
Northern  portion  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
reached  a  crisis  at  this  General  Conference,  and  it 
turned  out  to  be  the  last  at  which  delegates  from 
the  Southern  and  jSTorthern  Conferences  met  in  one 
assembly. 

At  the  close  of  the  first  week  the  appeal  of  the 
Eev.  F.  Harding,  of  the  Baltimore  Conference,  was 
taken  up.  On  the  11th  May,  it  was  decided,  on  a 
motion  to  reverse  the  decision  of  the  Baltimore 
Conference,  by  fifty-six  ayes  to  one  hundred  and 
seventeen  nays.  ^'I  confess,"  said  Dr.  Capers, 
^'  that  both  in  the  action  of  the  Baltimore  Confer- 
ence in  the  case  of  Harding,  and  the  action  of  the 
General  Conference  on  his  appeal,  in  which  the  de- 


CASE   OF   BISHOP   ANDKEW.  399 


cision  of  the  Baltimore  Conference  was  affirmed,  a 
fancied  purity  from  the  defilement  *  of  the  great 
evil  of  slavery,'  appeared  a  Moloch  at  whose  altar 
humanity,  jtistice,  equity,  seemed  to  he  sacrificed." 

This  case  was.  invested  with  higher  interest,  as 
it  showed  the  strength  of  the  two  parties  in  refer- 
ence to  a  more  important  case,  that  of  Bishop 
Andrew,  who,  it  was  found,  had  become  "  con- 
nected with  slavery."  The  Bishop,  ascertaining 
that  a  strong  excitement  was  growing  up  against 
him  on  this  account,  had  solicited  an  interview 
with  the  delegates  of  the  Southern  Conferences, 
and  proposed,  if  they  wished  it,  to  resign  his  office 
for  the  sake  of  peace.  They  unhesitatingly  de- 
clined any  assent  to  such  a  proposal ;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  assured  the  Bishop  that  he  could  not 
procure  peace  by  such  a  sacrifice ;  that  his  resigna- 
tion would  imply  submission  to  an  unjust  and  in- 
jurious censorship,  and  would  involve  an  utter 
abandonment  of  Southern  interests. 

On  the  14th  May,  Dr.  Capers  introduced  in  the 
General  Conference  the  following  resolution :  '''In 
view  of  the  distracting  agitation  which  has  so  long 
prevailed  on  the  subject  of  slavery  and  abolition, 
and  especially  the  difficulties  under  which  we  labor 
in  the  present  General  Conference,  on  account  of 
the  relative  position  of  brethren  ^Torth  and  South 
on  this  perplexing  question ;  therefore. 

Resolved^  That  a  committee  of  three  from  the 
i^orth,  and  three  from  the  South,  be  appointed  to 
confer  with  the  Bishops,  and  report  within  two 


400 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


days,  as  to  the  possibility  of  adopting  some  plan, 
and  what,  for  the  permanent  pacification  of  the 
Church." 

This  proposition  was  received  with  general  favor, 
and  a  committee  was  accordingly  raised,  with  Dr. 
Capers  as  chairman.  After  several  ineffectual 
attempts  to  lay  down  a  basis  of  agreement  satisfac- 
tory to  both  parties,  the  committee  reported  their 
failure,  and  were  discharged  from  anyiurther  con- 
sideration of  the  subject.  This  failure  satisfied 
all  thoughtful  minds  that  the  dismemberment  of 
the  Church  was  an  event  inevitable.  The  knell  of 
the  Church-union  was  already  sounded.  The  dif- 
ficulty was  unmanageable  by  human  wisdom  or 
power. 

The  first  formal  action  in  the  case  of  Bishop 
Andrew  was  taken  May  20th,  at  the  instance  of  a 
member  of  the  Baltimore  delegation.  On  the  22d 
a  resolution  was  introduced  by  another  member  of 
the  same  delegation,  ajfectionately  requesting  the 
Bishop  to  resign  his  office..  On  the  23d,  a  sub- 
.stitute  was  offered  by  Mr.  Finley,  of  Ohio,  resolving 
that  it  .  was  the  sense  of  the  General  Conference 
that  Bishop  Andrew  desist  from  the  exercise  of  his 
office  so  long  as  the  impediment  of  his  connection 
with  slavery  should  remain. 

The  broad  ground  on  which  the  ]N"orthern  mem- 
bers rested  their  plea  was  that  of  expediency.  ^STo 
attempt  was  made  to  show  that  the  Bishop  had 
violated  any  law  of  the  Book  of  Discipline,  or  any 
pledge  given  at  the  time  of  his  election  to  the 


DR.  WINANS. 


401 


Episcopacy,  that  he  would  never  become  a  slave- 
holder. But  inasmuch  as  it  was  held  impossible 
for  him  to  exercise  his  functions  in  an  Annual 
Conference  where  the  anti-slavery  spirit  prevailed 
to  a.  fanatical  extent,  while  at  the  same  time  as  a 
Bishop  he  was  a  general  superintendent,  it  Avas 
maintained  that  he  had  disqualified  himself  for  his 
office,  and  must  desist  from  exercising  it  an}'-- 
where.  To  this  the  Southern  members  replied, 
that  the  expediency  was  wholly  on  one  side  of  this 
question;  that  the  measure,  however  expedient- for 
the  ITorth,  would  be  fearfully  ruinous  to  the  inter- 
ests of  the  Church  in  the  South.  A  distinct, 
strong,  unanimous  testimony  was  delivered  on  that 
pcxint. 

Dr.  Winans,  of  the  Mississippi  Conference,  made 
the  first  speech  on  the  Southern  side,  Dr.  Capers 
the  last.  Very  able  and  impressive  speeches  were 
also  made  by  Dr.  W.  A.  Smith,  of  Virginia,  by  the 
Pierces,  father  and  son,  and  Dr.  Longstreet,  of 
Georgia,  Mr.  Stringfield,  of  Holston,  Dr.  A.  L.  P. 
Green,  of  Tennessee,  and  others.  Dr.  Winans  was 
an  impetuous  speaker,  after  the  Greek  model; 
very  plain  in  attire  and  appearance,  wearing  no 
cravat,  making  no  fiourishes.  But  if  any  adver- 
sary supposed  that  this  unpretending  exterior  indi- 
cated a  mind  of  ordinary  calibre,  he  very  soon 
changed  his  opinion.  Massive  strength,  put  in 
motion  by  a  glowing  spirit,  furnished  a  mighty 
momentum,  which  struck  like  the  swell  of  the  sea 
when  stormy  winds  rule  the  waters.    "Sir,"  he 


402 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM    CAP  EES. 


said,  "by  the  vote  contemplated  by  this  body,  and 
solicited  by  this  resolution,  you  will  render  it  ex- 
pedient— nay,  more,  you  render  it  indispensable- 
nay,  more,  you  render  it  uncontrollably  necessary  that 
a  large  portion  of  the  Church — and  per^nit  me  to 
add,  a  portion  always  conformed  in  their  views  and 
practices  to  the  Discipline  of  the  Church — I  say 
that  by  this  vote  you  render  it  indispensably,  ay, 
uncontrollably  necessary,  that  that  portion  of  the 
Church  should — I  dread  to  pronounce  the  word, 
but  you  understand  me.  Yes,  sir,  you  create  an 
uncontrollable  necessity  that  there  should  be  a  dis- 
connection of  that  large  portion  of  the  Church  from 
your  body.  It  is  not  because  there  are  prejudices 
waked  up  by  unceasing  agitation,  year  after  year, 
in  opposition  to  the  spirit  and  language  of  the 
Discipline,  but  it  arises  out  of  the  established  laws 
of  society — from  a  state  of  things  under  the  control 
of  political  and  civil  government,  which  no  minister 
of  the  gospel  can  control  or  influence  in  the  smallest 
degree.  If  you  press  this  action  in  the  mildest 
form  in  which  you  approach  the  Bishop,  you  will 
throw  every  minister  in  the  South  hors  du  combat ; 
you  will  cut  us  off  from  all  connection  with  masters 
and  servants ;  and  will  leave  us  no  option — God  is 
my  witness  that  I  speak  with  all  sincerity  of  pur- 
pose toward  you — but  to  be  disconnected  with  your 
body.  If  such  necessity  exists  on  your  part  to 
drive  this  man  from  his  office,  we  reassert  that 
this  must  be  the  result  of  your  action  in  this  matter. 
We  have  no  will,  no  choice  in  the  thing.  It 


-1 


SPEECH    IN    BP.    ANDREW'S    CASE.  403 

comes  upon  us  as  destiny ;  it  comes  with  over- 
whelming force ;  and  all  we  can  do  is  to  submit  to 
it." 

These  passages  were  delivered  with  the  true  De- 
mosthenean  force.  The  irrepressible  emotion,  the 
"  erect  countenance,"  the  flashing  eye,  and  ringing 
voice,  the  unfaltering  prediction  of  consequences'' 
that  were  to  follow,  and  resound  through  all  Me- 
thodist history,  made  the  speech  memorable. 

Dr.  Capers  spoke  at  the  close  of  the  twelve  days' 
debate.  In  many  respects,  he  was  the  antithesis 
of  Dr.  Winans.  Fine  finish  in  face,  dress,  de- 
livery; perfect  command  of  voice  and  emotion; 
refinement  of  manner,  and  charm  of  grace  and 
urbanity ;  keenness  of  intellect,  and  a  firm  hold  on 
the  respect  and  kind  feelings  of  the  whole  assem- 
bly— all  these  combined  elements  gave  him  a  favor- 
able position,  even  at  the  close  of  a  prolonged  and 
exciting  debate.  From  the  posture  of  parties,  there 
was  no  ground  of  hope  left  to  any  Southern  mem- 
ber that  the  contemplated  measures  could  be  ar- 
rested. 'No  vote  could  be  changed  by  argument  or 
persuasion.  It  was  rather  to  the  whole  country — 
to  posterity,  that  the  appeal  was  felt  to  be  made. 

The  first  point  Dr.  Capers  made  was  in  respect 
to  the  unity  of  the  Church.  His  argument  was  in 
substance  this :  Bishop  Andrew  is  under  arrest  as 
a  slaveholder,  because  thereby  he  has  made  it  im- 
possible for  himself  to  exercise  in  the  non-slave- 
holding  States  his  Episcopal  ■  functions.  Very 
well.    You  maintain  that  a  General  Conference  is 


404  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

the  supreme  power  in  the  Church,  to  which  the 
Bishops  are  subordinate  and  responsible.  How 
absurd  is  the  clamor  against  a  slaveholding  Bishop, 
as  a  contamination  upon  a  part  of  the  Church, 
when  the  General  Conference  itself  includes  slave- 
holders, who  thus,  by  the  very  unity  of  the  Church, 
connect  these  immaculate  Conferences  inextricably 
with  "  the  great  evil !"  "Yes,  sir,"  he  said,  "  they 
and  I. are  brethren,  whether  they  will  or  no.  The 
same  holy  hands  have  been  laid  upon  their  heads 
and  upon  my  head.  The  same  vows  which  they 
have  taken,  I  have  taken.  At  the  same  altar  where 
they  minister,  do  I  minister;  and  with  the  same 
words  mutually  on  our  tongues.  We  are  the  same 
ministry,  of  the  same  Church  ;  not  like,  but  identi- 
cal. Are  they  Elders  ?  So  am  I.  Spell  the  word. 
There  is  not  a  letter  in  it  which  they  dare  deny  me. 
Take  their  measure.  I  am  just  as  high  as  they  are, 
and  they  are  as  low  as  I  am.  We  are  not  one 
ministry  for  .  the  i^orth,  and  another  ministry  for 
the  South ;  but  one  and  one  only,  for  the  whole 
Church." 

It  could  not  have  made  his  argument  more 
conclusive  or  irresistible,  had  he  added,  that  by 
virtue  of  this  same  unity  and  connectiorialism  of 
the  Church,  he,  a  slaveholder,  had  himself  been 
called  on  by  ]^orthern  as  well  as  Southern  votes  to 
represent  the  entire  American  Methodist  Church, 
a  few  years  previously,  before  the  British  Wes- 
leyan  Conference.  Had  the  lapse  of  these  few 
years  altered  the  immutable  law  of  Christian  morals, 


SPEECH    IN    BP.    ANDREW'S    CASE.  405 

and  made  that  to  be  wrong  to-day  which  was  per- 
fectly right  then  ? 

After  a  brief  examination  of  the  new  doctrine 
which  had  been  improvised  to  cover  the  approach-, 
ing  action,  that,  namely,  which  held  Bishops  to  be 
merely  officers  of  the  General  Conference,  liable  to 
be  set  aside  as  class-leaders,  at  the  mere  pleasure 
of  a  "majority,  and  showing  what  a  solemn  farce 
the  consecration  service  would  become  on  such  a 
supposition.  Dr.  Capers  went  on  to  exhibit  the 
unconstitutionality  of  the  contemplated  proceeding. 
He  maintained  that  whatever  else  the  Constitution 
of  the  Church  might  be,  it  must  first  be  Christian, 
and  secondly,  Protestant,  and  thirdly,  consistent 
with  the  great  object  for  which  the  Methodist 
Church  was  raised  up,  to  spread  scriptural  holiness 
over  these  lands.  In  elaborating  this  last  point,  he 
showed  how  the  proceedings  against  the  Bishop 
must  impede  the  course  of  the  ministry  in  many  of 
the  States,  and  debar  access  altogether  to  large 
portions  of  the  colored  population.  He  was  now 
approaching  a  point  of  view  where,  from  the  very 
office  he  had  held  under  the  General  Conference 
for  the  last  four  years — that  of  Missionaiy  Secre- 
tary for  the  South — he  was  entitled  to  speak  with 
the  highest  authority.  If  any  man  in  America 
could  be  supposed  to  be  well  informed  on  this  sub- 
ject, Dr.  Capers  was  that  man.  And  what  was  his 
testimony?  "N'ever,  never,"  said  he,  "have  I  suf-. 
fered,  as  in  view  of  the  evil  which  this  measure 
threatens  against  the  South.     The  agitation  has 


406 


LIFE    OF    WILLIABI  CAPERS. 


begun  there ;  and  I  tell  you  that  though  our  hearts 
were  to  be  torn  from  our  bodies,  it  could  avail 
nothing  when  once  you  have  awakened  the  feeling 
that  we  cannot  be  trusted  among  the  slaves.  Once  you 
have  done  this^  you  have  effectually  destroyed  us.  I  could 
wish  to  die  sooner  than  live  to  see  such  a  day.  As 
sure  as  you  live,  there  are  tens  of  thousands,  nay, 
hundreds  of  thousands,  whose  destiny  may  be 
perilled  by  your  decision  on  this  case.  When  we 
tell  you  that  we  preach  to  a  hundred  thousand 
slaves  in  our  missionary  field,  we  only  announce 
the  beginning  of  our  work — the  beginning  openings 
of  the  door  of  access  to  the  most  numerous  masses 
of  slaves  in  the  South.  When  we  add  that  there 
are  two  hundred  thousand  now  within  our  reach 
who  have  no  gospel  unless  we  give  it  to  them,  it  is 
still  but  the  same  announcement  of  the  beginnings 
of  the  opening  of  that  wide  and  effectual  door, 
which  was  so  long  closed,  and  so  lately  has  begun 
to  be  opened,  for  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  by 
our  ministry,  to  a  numerous  and  destitute  portion 
of  the  people.  O  close  not  this  door !  Shut  us 
not  out  from  this  great  work,  to  which  we  have 
been  so  signally  called  of  God." 

In  this  strain  he  went  on  to  the  conclusion  of  his 
speech.  Had  it  been  within  the  possibility  of 
human  agency  to  close  or  bridge  the  gulf  of  separa- 
tion which  yawned  between  the  I^orthern  and 
^Southern  sections  of  the  Church,  this  fervid,  tell- 
ing, and  powerful  appeal  to  the  Christian  prin- 
ciples and  emotions  of  the  majority,  must  have 


SPEECU    IN    BP.    ANDHEW'S    CASE.  407 

done  it.  Were  they  n^tthe  very  men,  by  eminence, 
who  were  clamoring  about  the  civil  and  social  con- 
dition of  the  negro  population  of  the  Southern 
States  ?  But  were  they  not,  also,  the  very  preachers 
whose  business  it  was  to  ask  the  question,  "  What 
shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole 
world,  and  lose  his  own  soul?"  Was  it  possible 
that  these  men  cared  nothing  for  the  souls  of  the 
negroes  ?  Swallowed  up,  as  some  of  them  no 
doubt  were,  in  the  abstractions  of  a  fanaticism ' 
which  was  blind  to  all  spiritual  and  eternal  inter- 
ests ;  and  hardened  as  some  of  them  possibly  were 
by  the  hypocritical  cant  of  abolitionism,  there  was 
yet  enough  of  sound  Christianity  among  the  major- 
ity of  that  General  Conference,  to  feel  the  force  of 
those  considerations — irresistible  to  a  good  man — 
which  in  so  touching  a  style  this  speech  had  set 
before  them.  Why,  then,  did  they  caiTy  out  the 
measure  objected  to  on  such  weighty  considera- 
tions? The  answer  is,  that  all  considerate  men 
among  them  saw  that  the  time  had  come  for  a 
separation.  They  meant  to  meet  the  emergency 
with  a  steady  determination  to  do  justice  to  the 
claims  of  that  portion  of  the  Church  represented 
by  the  minority.  Subsequent  acts  show  that  they 
are  entitled  to  the  justification  found  alone  in  such 
a  determination. 

Dr.  Few,  of  Georgia,  whose  want  of  health  had 
deprived  the  South  of  his  important  services  as  a 
delegate,  upon  reading  Dr.  Capers's  speech,  made 


408 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


the  following  remark:  "I  would  be  willing  to  risk 
the  w^hole  cause  upon  that  speech  alone,  with  every 
sound-minded,  unprejudiced  man,  although  he 
should  be  required  to  read  all  that  was  said  on  the 
opposite  side." 

This  speech  was  made  on  Thursday,  May  30th. 
The  Bishops  requested  that  no  afternoon  session 
should  be  held,  in  order  that  they  might  have  time 
for  a  consultation,  in  the  hope  that  a  compromise 
might  yet  be  effected.  On  the  next  day  the  result 
of  this  consultation  was  presented  in  a  communi- 
cation recommending  a  postponement  of  further 
action  in  Bishop  Andrew's  case  until  the  ensuing 
General  Conference.  This  forlorn-hope  proposition 
came  to  nothing ;  and  on  the  day  following,  June 
1st,  the  vote  w^as  taken,  and  Mr.  Finley's  resolution 
was  adojDted — one  hundred  and  eleven  members 
voting  in  the  affirmative,  and  sixty-nine  in  the 
negative. 

Dr.  L.  Pierce  then  rose  and  gave  notice  that  a 
protest  would  be  presented  against  the  action  of 
the  majority,  by  the  Southern  delegations.  This 
masterly  paper  was  drawn  up  and  read  by  Dr. 
Bascom.  On  Monday,  June  3,  Dr.  Capers  intro- 
duced a  series  of  resolutions  recommending  the 
Annual  Conferences  to  suspend  the  constitutional 
restrictions,  so  as  to  allow  the  existence  of  two 
General  Conferences,  one  for  the  States  Xorth,  and 
one  for  the  States  in  which  slavery  exists.  These 
were  referred  to  a  committee  of  nine,  who  reported 


PLAN   OF  SEPARATION. 


409 


on  the  5th  that  they  could  not  agree  upon  any  thing 
which  they  judged  would  be  acceptable  to  the  Con- 
ference. 

Dr.  Longstreet  then,  in  behalf  of  the  Southern 
and  South-western  Conferences,  presented  the  fol- 
lowing declaration :  "  The  delegates  of  the  Con- 
ferences in  the  slaveholding  States  take  leave  to 
declare  to  the  General  Conference  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  that  the  continued  agitation  of 
the  subject  of  slavery  and  abolition  in  a  portion  of 
the  Church,  the  frequent  action  on  that  subject  in 
the  General  ConferencCj  and  especially  the  extra- 
judicial proceedings  against  Bishop  Andrew,  which 
resulted,  on  Saturday  last,  in  the  virtual  suspension 
of  him  from  his  office  as  Superintendent,  must 
produce  a  state  of  things  in  the  South  which  ren- 
ders a  continuance  of  the  jurisdiction  of  that  Gen- 
eral Conference  over  these  Conferences  inconsistent 
with  the  success  of  the  ministry  in  the  slavehold- 
ing States." 

This  declaration  was  then  referred  to  a  committee 
of  nine.  Dr.  Paine,  of  Tennessee,  being  chairman. 
They  were  instructed  by  a  formal  resolution  to  de- 
vise, if  possible,  a  constitutional  plan  for  a  mutual 
and  friendly  division  of  the  Church,  provided  they 
could  not  devise  a  plan  for  an  amicable  adjustment 
of  the  difficulties  existing  on  the  subject  of  slavery. 

The  next  day  Dr.  Paine  brought  in  a  Plan  of 
Separation,  which  allowed  the  Annual  Confer- 
ences in  the  slaveholding  States  to  unite  in  a  dis- 
tinct ecclesiastical  connection,  should  they  find  it 
18  • 


410  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

necessary ;  and  which  fixed  the  territorial  limits  of 
the  Churches  i^orth  and  South ;  allowed  ministers 
of  every  grade  to  determine  their  ecclesiastical 
connection ;  gave  up  to  the  Southern  organization 
all  rights  of  property  in  meeting-houses,  parson- 
ages, colleges,  schools.  Conference  funds,  cemeteries, 
and  the  like ;  and  provided  for  the  fair  division  of 
the  Book  Concern  as  soon  as  the  Annual  Confer- 
ences should  remove  the  restriction  on  the  powers 
of  the  General  Conference  to  do  so.  This  plan 
evidently  made  the  Southern  Conferences  judges 
of  the  necessity  of  division,  and  referred  but  a 
single  point — that  of  the  jpro  rata  division  of  the 
Book  Concern — to  the  whole  body  of  Annual 
Conferences.  The  unanimity  with  which  this  great 
scheme  of  separation  was  voted  by  the  General 
Conference,  was  alike  honorable  to  the  judgments 
and  hearts  of  the  majority.  There  is  no  doubt 
that,  under  the  provisions  of  this  plan  of  separa- 
tion, the  Southern  organization  would  have  been 
amicably  carried  through,  and  the  Book  Concern 
fund  divided  without  an  appeal  to  legal  tribunals, 
had  the  official  journal  of  the  ISTorthern  Church 
adopted  a  pacific  and  conciliatory  policy.  Unfor- 
tunately, this  organ,  so  powerful  for  moulding  pub- 
lic opinion,  was  in  the  hands  of  a  person  wholly 
unsuited  to  the  emergency.  To  great  and  ac- 
knowledged ability,  there  was  united  in  his  charac- 
ter an  overweening  sense  of  self-importance.  He 
was  the  Palinurus  who  could  steer  the  ship  through 
storm  and  shoal.    He  would  niaintain  the  unity 


LEGAL  DECISION. 


411 


and  integrity  of  the  Church,  all  the  Hotspurs  of  the 
South  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding.  The  paper 
conducted  by  him  circulated  extensively  in  the 
South:  he  would  make  its  influence  there  more 
powerful  to  control  opinion  than  the  united  influ- 
ence of  the  representatives  of  the  Southern  Con- 
ferences; more  powerful  than  the  sense  of  injury 
among  a  high-spirited  people,  impatient  of  foreign 
interference  and  dictation  in  their  domestic  con- 
cerns. It  is  needless  to  add  that  a  signal  failure 
followed  all  these  vain  conceits.  The  only  success 
accomplished  was  a  defeat  of  the  measure  proposed 
in  respect  to  a  division  of  the  Book  Concern.  And, 
notwithstanding  the  vigorous  attempts  of  this  press 
to  fix  the  odium  of  secession  upon  the  Southern 
Church,  which  would  invalidate  their  just  claim 
to  a  portion  of  the  common  fund,  the  I^orthern 
Conferences,  by  an  affirmative  vote  of  one  thousand 
one  hundred:  and  sixty-four  against  one  thousand 
and  sixty-seven  in  the  negative,  expressed  their 
sense  of  the  righteousness  of  the  Southern  claim. 
There  lacked  but  two  hundred  and  sixty-nine  votes 
to  make  up  the  constitutional  majority  of  two- 
thirds  requisite  to  alter  the  restrictive  rule.  The 
courts  of  law  subsequently,  as  it  is  well  known, 
gave  the  Southern  Church  what  was  due  to  it. 
The  opinion  was  expressed  by  one  of  the  eminent 
legal  gentlemen  who  managed  the  case  for  the 
Southern  Commissioners,  that  whatever  took  place 
afterward,  through  mischiefs  growing  out  of  the  press, 
the  General  Conference,  when  it  agreed  to  the 


412 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


division,  did  it  harmoniouslv.  kindly,  and  in  the 
expectation  of  a  kind  communion  afterward.  And 
mischief,  and  nothing  but  mischief,  grew  out  of 
the  unhappy  course  of  the  press  aforementioned. 
It  reminds  one  of  the  fisherman  in  the  Arabian 
stoiy,  whose  persevering  industry  first  fished  up  a 
basket  of  slime,  and  then  the  carcass  of  an  ass, 
and  finally  dragged  out  a  malevolent  genie,  that 
was  potent  enough  for  harm. 

Dr.  Capers  was  appointed,  at  the  ensuing  session 
of  the  South  Carolina  Conference,  Superintendent 
of  the  missions  to  the  blacks  in  Georgia,  Alabama, 
and  South  Carolina ;  and  elected  a  delegate  to  the 
Convention  held  at  Louisville,  Kentucky,  at  which 
the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South,  was  or- 
ganized. As  Chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Mis- 
sions, he  drew  up  a  circular  letter,  to  be  sent  by 
the  Convention  to  all  the  churches  of  the  new 
Connection,  forcibly  presenting  the  claims  of  that 
important  department  under  the  new  aspects  which 
had  opened  upon  Southern  Methodism.  He  also 
WTote  the  Pastoral  Address — a  paper  admirable  in 
its  tone,  and  equal  to  the  occasion,  yet  inculcating 
the  purest  spirit  of  pea<ie  and  love,  and  breathing 
the  warmest  attachment  to  the  doctrines  and  dis- 
cipline, the  economy  and  usages  of  primitive  Ameri- 
can Methodism. 


ORDAINED  BISHOP. 


413 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

Elected  and  ordained  Bishop — First  tour  of  Episcopal  visitations — 
Travels  through  the  border  territory  of  the  Virginia  Conference. 

At  the  close  of  the  year  1845  Dr.  Capers  was 
stationed  at  Columbia.  Here,  at  the  request  of  the 
South  Carolina  Conference,  he  revised  the  catechism 
for  the  use  of  the  negro  missions  which  he  had 
prepared  some  years  previously,  adding  a  second 
part,  comprehending  a  brief  outline  of  the  history 
of  redemption.  This  was  submitted  to  the  Com- 
mittee on  Missions  at  the  General  Conference  at 
Petersburg,  and  adopted  by  the  Conference,  and 
ordered  to  be  introduced  into  the  missions  generally. 

In  the  spring  of  1846  he  attended  the  session  of 
the  first  General  Conference  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  South. '  On  the  7th  of  May,  he 
and  Dr.  P.  Paine  were  elected  Bishops.  On  the 
14th  they  were  consecrated  to.  their  high  and  holy 
office.  At  12  o'clock  the  interesting  solemnity 
took  place,  at  the  Washington  Street  Church, 
Bishop  Andrew  opened  the  service  by  singing  the 
463d  hymn,  commencing, 

"Saviour  of  men,  thy  searching  eye 
Doth  all  my  inmost  thoughts  descry : 
Doth  aught  on  earth  my  wishes  raise, 
Or  the  world's  pleasure,  or  its  praise  ? 


414 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


"The  love  of  Christ  doth  me  constrain 
To  seek  the  wandering  souls  of  men; 
With  cries,  entreaties,  tears,  to  save, 
To  snatch  them  from  the  gaping  grave." 

After  extemporaneous  prayer,  the  Bisliops-elect 
were  presented,  Dr.  Capers  by  Dr.  Pierce,  and  Dr. 
Paine  by  Mr.  Early.  The  Collect,  Epistle,  and 
Gospel  were  read  by  Bishop  Andrew ;  the  questions 
to  the  Bishops-elect  were  proposed  by  Bishop  Soule, 
who,  together  with  Bishop  Andrew  and  the  elders 
presenting,  laid  their  hands  upon  the  heads  of  the 
Bishops-elect,  with  the  consecrating  formula.  The 
Bible  was  then  delivered  to  them  with  the  accom- 
panying charge.  The  benediction,  preceded  by 
suitable  prayers,  closed  the  solemn  service. 

The  following  letter  written  to  Mrs.  Capers  on 
the  occasion  will  be  read  with  interest:  "I  left 
you  for  the  General  Conference  not  knowing  what 
was  before  me.  I^one  of  the  brethren  in  our  quar- 
ter had  spoken  to  me,  none  from  a  distance  had 
written  to  me,  about  my  being  put  into  the  Epis- 
copacy ;  and  after  I  came  here,  up  to  the  hour  of 
the  election,  the  subject  was  scarcely  named  except 
in  the  most  incidental  manner.  I  thought  not  of 
being  made  Bishop.  The  result  took  me  by 
surprise.  And  I  am  glad  that  it  was  so  sudden, 
for  the  very  suddenness  of  it  made  it  more  effectual 
to  rouse  me  to  (what  I  trust  humbly  in  God's 
mercy  may  prove)  the  final  conflict.  All  or 
nothing,  now  and  for  life,  come  what  may,  to  me 
and  mine,  seemed  to  be  the  question  involved  ;  and 


FITNESS    FOR    THE    EPISCOPACY.  415 

thank  God,  I  felt  that  however  low  my  spirit  had 
been  depressed  in  past  conflicts,  struggling  with 
adversity,  I  was  still  Christian  enough,  and  Chris- 
tian minister  enough,  to  decide  without  hesitancy. 
Indeed,  you  know  that  in  all  the  past,  the  bitter- 
ness of  the  cup  has  never  been  so  much  the  amount 
of  difficulties  I  have  had  to  contend  with,  as  that 
cruel,  insupportable  insinuation  that  those  diffi- 
culties were  on  account  of  the  Lord's  controversy 
with  me  for  having  once  yielded  to  temptation  and 
left  the  work.  I  felt  that  the  favor  of  God  and  the 
confidence  of  the  Church  was  our  best  estate,  and 
best  patrimony  for  our  children ;  and  whether  or 
not,  I  dare  not,  I  would  not  draw  back.  To-day  I 
feel  that  we  all  are  on  the  altar  together ;  and  0, 
have  I  not  felt  that  'the  altar  sanctifieth  the  gift?' 
I  have  only  to  cast  all  my  care  on  God,  all  my 
multiform  unworthiness  on  his  Divine  goodness 
and  condescension  in  Christ,  and  go  on.  I  have 
so  reverenced  the  work  and  office  of  a  Bishop  and 
the  Bishops  themselves,  that  that  itself  embarrasses 
me.  I  cannot  feel  myself  a  Bishop ;  but,  thank 
God,  I  feel  what  is  better — an  abiding  sense  of 
being  accepted  of  him,  in  an  humble  and  sincere 
devotion  of  myself,  without  stint,  to  his  service." 

It  was  highly  honorable  to  Dr.  Capers  that  he 
should  have  been  elected  in  the  manner  just  related. 
His  high  character,  his  known  devotion  to  the 
itinerant  ministry,  and  his  past  services,  rendered 
unnecessary  the  slightest  eSort  on  the  part  of  his 
friends  to  secure  his  election.    It  is  no  wonder, 


116 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


indeed,  that  the  thing  should  have  taken  him  hy 
surprise,  for  his  unaffected  humility  led  him  to 
consider  many  of  his  brethren  more  suitable  for 
the  office  than  himself.  Such  a  self  -  estimate, 
among  all  right-minded  men,  is  the  unfailing  con- 
comitant of  that  class  of  abilities  required  for  the 
peculiarly  difficult  and  delicate  functions  of  a 
Methodist  Bishop.  What  minister  of  Christ, 
properly  aware  of  the  responsibilities  attached  to 
the  Episcopal  office  in  the  Methodist  Church,  and 
especially  if  surrounded  by  the  endearments  of  the 
family  circle,  would  not  unhesitatingly  say,  nolo 
ejriscopari,  if  the  matter  were  left  to  his  own  choice  ? 
Bishop  Paine  was  called,  by  the  plan  of  visitation 
adopted  at  the  time  he  was  made  Bishop,  to  a 
seven  months'  absence  from  home,  one  brief  visit 
excepted.  Surely  no  honor  attached  to  the  office, 
apart  from  the  constraint  of  imperative  duty,  could 
be  an  equivalent  for  self-sacrifice  of  this  kind. 

The  plan  of  Episcopal  visitations  assigned  to 
Bishop  Capers  the  Holston,  Virginia,  is'orth  Caro- 
lina, Georgia,  South  Carolina,  and  Florida  Con- 
ferences, as  his  first  tour.  These  visitations 
occupied  him  from  October  to  February.  The 
Holston  Conference  was  held  at  "Wytheville,  Ya. 
Leaving  home  late  in  September,  he  passed  through 
Asheville,  down  the  French  Broad,  and  attended 
a  camp-meeting  at  Parrottsville,  Tenn.  "The 
meeting,"  he  says,  "was  a  good  one,  the  number 
of  conversions  above  forty,  and  of  persons  joining 
the  Church,  fifty.    The  French  Broad  has  been 


GEORGE  WELLS. 


417 


celebrated  for  its  scenery  by  all  who  have  travelled 
along  its  rocky  shores  j  but  I  esteem  the  scenery 
which  now  and  then  opens  to  tire  traveller  along 
the  road  I  have  travelled^  since  I  left  the  French 
Broad,  much  more  ■  delightful.  On  the  French 
Broad,  every  thing  is  bold  and  rugged,  but  you 
are  always  shut  in  to  a  scene  of  the  same  general 
features,  without  any  extensive  view — the  water 
hurrying  along  down  its  rocky  bed  at  yoi^r  feet, 
and  the  high  hills  closely  shutting  up  the  prospect. 
But  there  are  spots,  coming  from  Parrottsville  to 
Col.  Earnest's,  beyond  Greensville,  where  I  now 
am,  at  which  you  see  on  the  right  hand,  south-  , 
eastwardly,  eastwardly,  and  north-eastwardly,  ranges 
of  mountains  lying  at  all  distances,  from  five 
to  thirty  miles;'  while  on  the  left  hand  an  im- 
mense valley  of  meadow-lands  and  hills,  along 
the  l^ollichucky  river,  opens  as  far  as  you  can  see, 
with  mountains  at  great  distances  diversifying  the 
scene  with  exquisite  pictures  of  the  bosom  of 
nature.  There  is  no  country  in  America  so  fine  as 
this  for  its  natural  scenery ;  and  the  lands  are  very 
rich.  'Nor  have  you  to  climb-  to  the  tops  of  moun- 
tains to  enjoy  the  prospects  I  have  alluded  to.  All 
the  country  between  di&erent  ranges  of  mountains 
is  called  a  valley,  though  it  maybe  as  uneven  as 
E"ewton  county,  Ga. ;  and  along  any  line  of  road 
passing  through  a  valley  you  will  be  almost  always 
*i  .'  in  view  of  some  mountain-range,  and  frequently  of 
several  ranges  at  various  distances.  Three  nights 
ago,  I  stayed  with  George  Wells,  and  the  next  day 
14 


418  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPEKS. 

met  witli  Stephen  Brooks,  of  the  first  generation 
of  Methodist  preachers.  Brooks  began  travelling 
in  1789,  and  Wells  a  year  or  two  after.  At  the 
house  of  old  brother  Wells  I  was  at  one  of  the 
resting-places  of  Bishop  Asburj,  and  one  at  which 
he  stopped  in  the  tour  when  I  first  met  with  him, 
after  I  had  commenced  the  work  of  the  itinerant 
ministry." 

On  this  route,  Bishop  Capers  visited  Emory  and 
Henry  College,  and  was  so  much  pleased  that  he 
wrote  a  highly  complimentary  notice  of  the  insti- 
tution for  the  columns  of  the  Southern  Christian 
Advocate.  Thence  he  went  to  Abingdon,  and 
reached  "Wytheville,  the  seat  of  the  Holston  Con- 
ference, almost  oppressed  with  the  kind  and  con- 
stant attentions  shown  him.  After  the  session  of 
the  Conference  he  spent  a  day  or  two  with  Mrs. 
Preston,  the  daughter  of  Major  Hart,  an  old 
Columbia  friend. 

From  Wytheville  he  crossed  the  mountains  and 
went  to  Mecklenburg  county,  where  the  Virginia 
Conference  was  held,  at  Randolph  Ma<3on  College. 
Of  these  two  Conferences  he  says:  "I  have  been 
much  blessed  in  my  official  labors,  and  am  bound 
more  than  ever  to  devote  myself  to  them.  During 
the  Conferences,  both  at  Wytheville  and  Randolph 
Macon,  I  have  enjoyed  uncommon  serenity  and 
elevation  of  mind.  God  has  blessed  me  with  the 
light  of  his  countenance,  and  the  preachers  have 
treated  me  with  the  most  afiectionate  kindness." 

After  attending  the  Xorth  Carolina  Conference 


EPISCOPAL   VISITATIONS.  419 


at  ITewbern,  he  reached  home  about  the  middle  of 
December,  and  spent  a  day  or  two  with  his  family. 
The  Georgia  Conference  convened  at  Macon, 
December  23d;  the  session  was  a  very  pleasant 
one  under  the  presidency  of  Bishop  Capers.  After 
holding  the  South  Carolina  Conference  at  Charles- 
ton, he  left  early  in  February  for  Quincy,  the  seat 
of  the  Florida  Conference.  .  On  his  way  he  spent 
several  days  at  the  house  of  his  old  and  honored 
friend,  Mr.  Charles  Munnerlyn,  where,  he  was 
kindly  cared  for  after  a  very  fatiguing  journey. 
This  was  made  in  a  leaky,  half-curtained  hack, 
inflicting  on  him  extreme  exposure  in  bad  weather, 
and  bringing  on  in  a  short  time  great  stricture  of 
the  respiratory  organs,  and  inflammation  of  the 
bronchia.  He  suffered  at  times  extremely  from 
this  attack,  for  two  years,  when  in  the  spring  of 
1849,  by  God's  gracious  providence,  and  without 
the  least  instrumentality  of  human  means,  he  was 
relieved  of  it.. 

After  a  pleasant  and  profitable  session  of  the 
Florida  Conference,  he  spent  a  Sunday  in  Talla- 
hassee, and  another  in  Madison,  Florida,  being 
accompanied  by  the  Eev.  Mr.  Michau,  who  had 
tendered  the  Bishop  a  seat  in  his  buggy.  He 
reached  Charleston  about  the  middle  of  March, 
having  spent  nearly  seven  months  in  this  first 
round  of  Episcopal  •  visitations.  His  family  were 
shortly  after  removed  to  a  commodious  residence 
in  the  upper  part  of  the  city,  which  had  been  put 
at  his  service  by  the  kindness  of  his  friends. 


420 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


The  Virginia  Conference  lay  within  Bishop  Ca- 
pers's  district  during  the  year  1847.  Excitement 
was  running  high  in  the  ''border"  circuits,  and  it 
was  thought  desirable  that  he  should  travel  through 
them.  A  special  invitation  having  been  sent  him, 
he  set  out  on  a  visit  to  that  part  of  Virginia  on  the 
18th  May.  The  following  diary  gives  aii  account 
of  his  movements : 

"At  Wilmington,  May  19,  several  brethren  were 
waiting  my  arrival  at  the  wharf.  It  was  arranged 
that  I  should  stay  with  brother  Thomas  Smith. 
Preached  at  night;  some  forty  mourners  at  the 
altar,  and  several  conversions.  Prayer-meeting 
next  morning.  After  preaching  at  night,  a  still 
grea,ter  number  at  the  altar  than  the  night  before, 
and  .  several  converted.  Got  to  Richmond  early 
Saturday  morning.  May  22.  Preached  twice  on 
Sunday.  Attended  the  Sunday-school  celebration 
of  the  Centenary  and  Clay  street  Sunday-schools 
on  Monday.  Left  Richmond  by  the  railroad  to 
Gordonsville.  26th,  preached  at  night.  Thurs- 
day, carried  over  roads-  rough  enough,  fourteen 
miles  to  Col.  J.  Walker's;  dined  and  was  sent  in 
his  carriacre  to  Madison  Court-house.  Preached  at 
night.  Friday,  at  2  o'clock,  got  on  a  smooth-walk- 
ing pony,  for  the  enterprise  of  over  the  mountain 
on  horseback.  Mne  miles  got  me  to  brother  B. 
Conway's,  where  dismissed  the  pony,  and  got  Kate, 
a  pleasant,  never-tiring  nag.  Rode  on  nine  miles 
farther,  over  hills  and  little  mountains,  to  brother 
S.  Kennedy's.    Saturday  morning,  set  out  early, 


WESTERN  VIRGINIA. 


421 


(rocks,  rocks,)  and  went  over  the  Blue  Ridge,  by 
Swift-Run  gap,  to  the  Quarterly  Meeting  at  Elk 
Run,  fifteen  or  sixteen  miles,  and  right  to -preach- 
ing. Less  tired  after  the  preaching  than  before. 
Preaching  and  sacrament  on  Sunday.  Monday,  31st, 
to  Harrisonburg,  twenty  miles,  and  preached  at 
night.  Again  at  11  A.  M.,  and  at  night  Tuesday. 
On  Wednesday  rode  Kate  Conway  to  my  friend 
Jennings's,  at  Elk  Run,  twenty  miles,  to  dinner; 
and  after  dinner,  over  the  Blue  Ridge,  and  one  or 
two  spurs  of  mountains  on  the  eastern  side,  to 
brother  McMullan's.  He  computes  the  distance 
from  Harrisonburg  at  thirty-eight  miles — mind  that 
—thirty-eight  miles  on  horseback,  crossing  the  Blue 
Ridge,  and  a  mountain  cliff  besides,  and  the  miles 
none  of  the  shortest.  Thursday,  June  3d,  nine 
miles  to  Wolftown,  alias,  Trinity  Church,  and 
preached.  A  piece  of  cold  ham  and  bread  after 
preaching,  and  then  off  fifteen  miles  to  Col.  James 
Walker's,  to  preach  at  5  o'clock  P.  M.  Friday,  left 
CoL  Walker's  at  TJ  A.  M.  Got  to  Culpepper 
Court-house  to  dinner,  and  after  dinner  on  to  the 
White  Sulphur  Springs.  I  feel  as  comfortably  as  I 
could  wish ;  thanks  to  the  best  riding  nag  I  ever 
rode;  thanks  to  the  mountain  air;  thanks  to  the 
everrvaried  scenery  of  mountain  and  meadows,  and 
wide-spreading  prospects  over  hills  and  dales, 
covered  with  wheat  fields  and  clover ;  thanks  to  the 
sweet-singing  birds  ;-  and,  above  all,  thanks  to  Him 
who  is  in  all,  and  over  all,  and  above  all.  Kate 
Conway  and  the  saddlebags  in  preference  to  rail- 


422  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

roads,  steamboats,  or  stages,  for  a  Bishop  at  his 
work. 

"Preached  twice  on  Sabbath  at  Warrenton, 
Eauquier  county.  On  Monday  rode  some  thirteen 
miles  to  a  small  town  called  Salem,  and  preached, 
and  afterwards  rode  as  much  farther  to  the  resi- 
dence of  Dr.  Taliaferro,  just  under  the  Blue  Ridge. 
Tuesday :  preached  at  Farrowsville,  two  miles  this 
side  of  the  Doctor's ;  dined  with  a  fine  lady,  Mrs. 
Ashby,  with  a  large  company;  and  after  dinner 
rode  on  to  sister  Carter's,  below  Salem.  ITine 
miles  on  Wednesday  morning  brought  me  to  Bethel, 
where,  after  preaching,  I  dined  with  an  excellent 
brother  named  Blackwell.  Here,  too,  we  had  some 
twenty  people  to  dinner ;  and  after  they  had  dined 
and  seen  the  Bishop,  I  rode  to  Warrenton,  where  I 
had  an  appointment,  and  preached  at  night.  The 
congregations  at  every  place  have  been  large.  The 
whole  of  this  circuit  adhered  South  last  year,  and 
its  present  preachers  were  sent  from  the  Virginia 
Conference.  'No  wonder  that  the  Baltimore 
preachers  feel  sore.  To  lose  such  a  country,  and 
such  a  people  !  and  with  the  aggravation  of  know- 
ing that  the  loss  is  to  be  continually  increasing,  till 
all  this  fine  portion  of  the  Old  Dominion  has  ad- 
hered South.  June  10th  I  left  Warrenton  with  my 
amiable  travelling  companion.  Dr.  Buckner,  for 
Fredericksburg,  being  still  mounted  on  the  incom- 
parable Kate  Conway.  Passed  the  night  at  the 
residence  of  one  of  the  best  specimens  of  a  saintly 
old  Methodist  lady,  in  one  of  the  best  specimens 


Madison's  birthplace. 


423 


of  an  old-time^cottage-house,  with  a  Lower  before  it 
of  all  sorts  of  vines,  and  every  thing  in  it  as  sim- 
ple and  sweet  as  purity  itself  might  desire.  June 
11,  reached  Fredericksburg,  which  still  belongs  to 
the  Baltimore  Conference.  Put  up  at  Sanford's 
United  States  Hotel. 

"The  next  morning,  Saturday,  left  Fredericks- 
burg at  6  o'clock,  in  the  steamboat  Planter.  Fare- 
well to  my  good  Kate  Conway.  At  9  o'clock 
reached  Port  Conway,  having  first  touched  at  Port 
Royal,  where  Dr.  Penn,  Presiding  Elder  of  Rich- 
mond District,  met  me,  with  whom  I  travelled  very 
cleverly  in  his  two-horse  barouche,  over  fine,  smooth 
roads.  Our  first  meeting  wag  for  that  day  and 
Sunday,  and  was  continued  Monday,  at  a  church 
six  miles  north-east  from  Port  Conway.  This  Port 
Conway  is  little  more  than  a  stopping-place  where 
the  boats  take  in  wood ;  but  it  is  notable  for  the 
fact  that  Mr.  Madison  was  born  there.  The  spot 
where  the  house  stood  in  which  he  was  born  was 
pointed  out  to  me  in  an  oat-field,  about  two  hundred 
yards  from  the  landing-place,  and  quite  near  the  road 
leading  up  from  the  landing-place.  I  say  the  spot 
and  not  the  house  was  pointed  out,  for  there  "v^^as 
no  vestige  of  the  house  remaining.  It  is  remarka- 
ble that  Washington,  Madison,  and  Monroe  were 
borii  in  the  same  county — Westmoreland ;  though 
that  county  being  afterwards  divided,  the  new 
county,  King  George,  took  in  the  birthplace  of 
Madison.  Here,  too,  in  Westmoreland  lived  Henry 
Lee,  the  great  colonel  of  cavalry,  to  whom  South 


424  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

Carolina  in  particular  was  so  much  indebted  in  the 
Revolutionary  war.  Col.  Lee's  place  was  on  the 
Potomac,  and  called  Stratford  Hall. 

"  Saturday,  Sunday,  and  Monday  I  preached  at 
the  Union  Church,  King  George  county,  mentioned 
above,  and  Sunday  night  went  across  the  Rappa- 
hannock and  preached  in  the  clever  little  town  of 
Port  Royal,  opposite  to  Port  Conway.  Tuesday, 
preached  at  Oak  Grove,  eight  miles  east  from  Union. 
"Wednesday,  at  Westmoreland  Court-house.  Thurs- 
day, at  Bethel,  ten  miles  east  from  the  Court-house. 
Saturday  and  Sunday,  attended  a  Quarterly  Meet- 
ing at  Henderson's  Chapel.  Monday,  21st,  rode 
thirty  miles,  or  more,  to  Rehoboth,  in  Lancaster 
county,  and  preached  there  on  Tuesday,  and  on 
Wednesday  at  White  Chapel,  in  the  same  county. 
Congregations  have  been  very  large  at  all  my  ap- 
pointments, and  the  friends  where  I  have  stayed  on 
my  route  kind  and  affectionate.  There  is  no  por- 
tion of  Virginia,  or  of  our  whole  territory,  more 
interesting  than  this  border  territory :  a  fertile  and 
beautiful  country,  and  exceedingly  well  peopled." 

Bishop  Capers  reached  home  early  in  July  from 
this 'tour  of  vigorous  and  successful  labors.  His 
account  of  it  reminds  one  of  the  palmiest  days  of 
Francis  Asbury  and  John  Wesley.  Really,  for  a 
man  at  his  time  of  life,  troubled  with  asthma 
occasionally,  this  was  severe  work.  But  there 
never  was  any  lack  of  the  "go-ahead"  principle  in 
Dr.  Capers.  His  friend.  Dr.  Olin,  once  said  of  him, 
that  he  could  do  more  hard  work  than  any  man  of 


^^AS   MUCH   AS   IN   ME  IS." 


425 


his  acquaintance.  Those  who  knew  him  best 
knew  that  he  needed  no  spur.  ,  He  was,  con- 
sequently, a  little  exposed  to  over-action  when 
abroad  among  strangers.  He  had  reached  a  period 
when  there  was  a  considerable  diminution  of 
strength  to  '^endure  hardness,"  while  at  the  same 
time  'there  was  no  sensible  decline  of  manly  spirit. 
His  motto  was,  "As  much  as  in  me  is;"  and  he 
never  knew  when  that  much  had  been  expended, 
while  he  still  had  spirit^enough  to  go  on. 


426 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Second  tour  of  visitations — The  far  West — Travels  through  the  In- 
dian Territory,  Arkansas,  Texas. 

Bishop  Capers's  second  tour  of  Episcopal  visita- 
tions embraced  a  period  of  nearly  five  months,  and 
reached  from  the  Missouri  river  to  Texas,  taking  in 
the  Indian  Mission  Conference.  He  left  Charleston 
September  9th,  and  reached  Wheeling  on  the  16th. 
The  Ohio  river  was  low,  and  he  was  compelled  to 
take  passage  in  a  small  steamer  of  light  draught, 
into  which  more  than  a  hundred  passengers  were 
crowded.  A  tedious  and  uncomfortable  passage 
got  him  to  Louisville,  Kentucky,  too  late  to  take 
part  in  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Bishops  and 
Mission  Committee.  As  cold  weather  came  on,  his 
Ileal th  began  to  droop  somewhat,  and  asthma 
showed  itself  By  low  water  he  was  compelled  to 
take  stage  to  St.  Louis.  This  involved  incessant 
travelling  during  three  days  and  two  nights  entire ; 
and  he  reached  St.  Louis  on  the  25th  September. 
The  fatigue  was  too  much  for  him,  and  he  found 
it  advisable  to  lie  up  for  a  day  or  two,  at  the  resi- 
dence of  his  nephew,  the  Rev.  Thomas  H.  Capers. 
(3n  the  28th  he  set  out  in  a  light  travelling  wagon, 


IN  MISSOURI. 


427 


with  his  nephew  and  the  Presiding  Elder  of  the 
district,  for  Glasgow,  the  seat  of  the  Missouri  Con- 
ference, distant  one  hundred  and  seventy-five  miles. 
He  stood  the  drive,  rough  as  it  was  occasionally, 
very  well,  and  arrived  in  time  to  attend  to  the  ordi- 
nation services  on  Sunday.  .  At  this  Conference  five 
preachers  were  admitted  into  the  travelling  connec- 
tion, and  fifty-one  stationed. 

The  Conference  adjourned  October  7th,  and  he 
preached  at  Boonsville,  twenty  miles  below  Glas- 
gow, on  the  Missouri  river,  the  next  night.  From 
this  town,  accompanied  by  Dr.  Boyle  and  his 
nephew,  he  set  out  for  the  St,  Louis  Conference. 
They  spent  Sunday  at  Warsaw ;  and  before  leaving 
next  morning,  the  Bishop  bought  a  saddle,  bridle, 
and  other  equipments  for  horseback  travelling,  at 
the  close  of  the  approaching  Conference.  On  Tues- 
day afternoon,  our  travellers  reached  Ebenezer 
camp-ground,  in  Greene  county,  Missouri,  where 
Bishop  Capers  opened  the  session  of  Conference 
next  morning.  Asthma  had  been  troubling  him ; 
but  the  fine  weather  on  those  broad  prairie  lands 
was  continually  improving  his  health.  He  preached 
on  Sunday  to  a  great  concourse  of  people,  and 
ordained  both  the  deacons  and  elders,  being  en- 
gaged two  hours  and  a  half  in  the  whole  service, 
and  feeling  no  particular  harm  from  his  exertions. 
After  a  short  and  very  agreeable  session,  the  Con- 
ference adjourned  on  Monday  night.  The  Bishop 
bought  a  horse — not  quite  a  Kate  Conway,  how- 
ever; sent  his  trunk  back  to  St.  Louis  to  be  for- 


428 


LIFE   OF  WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


warded  to  ^^'e^Y  Orleans  ;•  and  once  more  in  the 
saddle,  felt  almost  young  again.  Brother  Joplin, 
one  of  the  preachers,  was  Ms  travelling  companion, 
to  whose  kind  attentions  he  felt  himself  much  in- 
debted. 

Leaving  the  camp-ground  on  Tuesday  morning, 
he  preached  that  night  at  Springfield  to  a  crowded 
house,  and  passed  the  night  in  a  luxurious  man- 
sion, with  a  family  of  well-bred  people,  in  the 
Ozark  Mountains.  Thirty  miles  the  next  day 
brought  him  to  his  stopping-place — an  open  house, 
and  not  much  of  it.  Another  thirty  miles  made 
the  journey  of  Thursday.  During  the  morning 
the  wind  at  south  made  the  weather  too  warm  for 
an  overcoat :  at  four  o'clock,  P.  M.,  a  sudden  puff 
from  the  north-west  changed  the  temperature  to 
winter  in  an  instant.  There  being  rain  the  next 
day,  and  the  weather  very  cold,  our  travellers  did 
not  start  until  afternoon,  and  failed  to  reach  the 
town  of  rayetteville  on  Sunday.  On  Monday, 
however,  on  getting  into  the  1?own  at  eleven  o'clock, 
the  Bishop  found  that  he  had  to  stop  and  preach,  a 
large  congregation  being  in  waiting.  This  led  to 
a  further  detention  for  dinner ;  so  that  it  was  three 
o'clock  P.  M.  before  he  got  again  on  the  road. 
Comfortable  quarters  that  night.  The  next  day 
they  were  done  with  the  Ozark  Mountains.  ''It 
makes  me  stiff  and  sore,"  says  the  Bishop,  "to 
make  a  day's  ride  on  horseback;  but  the  night  re- 
freshes me,  and  the  morning  finds  me  ready  to 
renew  my  toil."    Passed  through  Van  Buren  —  a 


INDIAN    MISSION    CONFERENCE.  429 

town  on  the  Arkansas  riyer,  five  miles  from  the 
Indian  lin*e — on  the  26th.  Thence  to  Fort  Coffee 
Mission  Station,  a  beautiful  situatioji,  on  a  high 
hill,  immediately  over  the  river  Arkansas,  eight  or 
ten  miles  west  of  the  State  of  Arkansas.  He  had 
time  to  spend  only  a  night  here,  and  was  struck 
with  the  supper-scene.  "The  custom  is  to  have 
family  prayer  at  supper.  Supper  on  table,  the  boys, 
fifty  in  number,  were  all  seated  with  their  faces 
outward  when  we  went  in.  I  read  a  short  lesson, 
sang  a  hymn  with  them,  and  prayed ;  after  which 
grace  was  said,  and  supper  dispatched." 

From  Fort  Coffee,  Bishop  Capers  set  off  the  next 
morning  under  the  escort  of  some  half-dozen  agree- 
able preachers,  who  were  on  the  way  to  the  seat  of 
the  Indian  Mission  Cjonference,  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  distant.  Hardships  here  and  there — a 
supper  not  to  be  described — a  breakfast  which 
made  some  of  the  company  leave  the  table,  as 
though  stricken  with  sea-sickness ;  farther  on,  a 
fine  turkey  cut  up  into  bits,  and  boiled  until  all 
taste  is  lost,  and  the  pieces  served  at  table  to  be 
eaten  with  corn-bread ;  boiled  pork,  fresh  from  the 
knife,  without  salt — (evidently  there  are  few  M. 
Soyers  to  preside  at  the  Indian  cuisine ;)  and  then, 
the  condition  of  things  here  and  there  suggesting, 
on  going  to  bed,  the  danger  of  getting  up  with  the 
itch! — all  this  to  the  contrary,  our  good  Bishop 
goes  on,  stage  after  stage,  improving  in  health,  and 
in  the  best  spirits,  until,  arriving  at  Doaksville,  the 
Beat  of  the  Conference,  he  finds  excellent  quarters  at 


430 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


the  house  of  an  Indian  widow  lady,  where  he  sleeps 
on  downy  pillows,  in  a  mahogany  bedstead,  sur- 
rounded by  all  the  appliances  of  high  civiliza- 
tion. 

The  Indian  Mission  Conference  was  composed 
of  thirty-three  preachers,  thirteen  of  whom  were 
Indians.  Some  of  them  had  travelled  five  hundred 
miles  to  attend  Conference.  The  Bishop  thus  de- 
scribes the  exercises  of  Sunday :  "  I  consented,  at 
the  earnest  desire  of  the  brethren,  to  have  the  ordi- 
nations and  to  preach,  at  the  camp-ground,  two 
miles  fi'om  Doaksville,  for  the  greater  accommoda- 
tion of  the  Indian  audience.  The  ground  is  an 
area  of  perhaps  an  acre  and  a  half,  enclosed  with  a 
rail  fence.  There  is  in  the  middle  of  the  ground 
a  well-built  roof,  some  forty  by  sixty  feet,  on  sub- 
stantial posts,  with  a  shed  at  the  pulpit  end,  some 
twenty  feet  wide,  for  the  negroes,  and  the  usual 
altar-place  before  the  pulpit — all  as  mth  us.  There 
are  eleven  tents  made  of  plank  or  slabs,  and  well 
covered,  the  rest  of  the  space  being  probably  occu- 
pied at  camp-meetings  with  tents  of  a  more  mov- 
able kind.  I  suppose  the  congregation  may  have 
numbered  one  thousand,  of  whom  about  a  hundred 
and  fifty  were  blacks,  and  about  fifty  whites.  Pro- 
bably half  of  the  whole,  or  more,  understood  Eng- 
lish well  enough  to  understand  me.  Opened  the 
service  with  singing  the  508th  hymn,  L.  M. ;  and 
after  prayer,  read  the  19th  Psalm,  and  part  of  the 
17th  chapter  of  St.  Luke  ;  verse  by  verse,  as  I  read, 
being  put  into  Choctaw  by  brother  Page.  The 


PREACHING    TO    THE    INDIANS.  431 

text  was  an  old  one  with  me,  but  perhaps  seldom 
before  so  appropriate,  Luke  xvii.  7-10.  Having 
finished  the  sermon,  I  instantly  beckoned  Page  to 
my  side,  and  addressed,  by  sentences,  those  Choc- 
taws  who  had  not  understood  my  preaching.  I 
told  them  that  never  having  tried  to  preach  through 
an  interpreter,  and  having  a  great  deal  to  say  to  the 
ministers  and  others,  I  had  not  ventured  it  on  that 
occasion.  But  it  pained  my  heart  that  I  was  not 
able  to  make  myself  understood  to  them.  I  loved 
them  very  much — prayed  earnestly  for  them,  and 
that  God  would  make  my  brethren  a  great  blessing 
to  them — there  was  a  world  before  us  with  one 
language  only — no  need  of  an  interpreter  there — I 
wanted  them  to  meet  me  with  Jesus  in  heaven — 
begged  them  to  meet  me  in  heaven,  which  was  open 
by  the  one  only  Saviour  for  us  all.  The  whole 
service  was  good,  but  this  last  part  of  it  was  so  re- 
markably blessed  that  I  almost  regretted  not 
having  gone  through  the  whole  in  that  way.  I  felt 
intensely  myself — Page  could  hardly  interpret  for 
emotion — a  venerable  old  Indian,  Toby  Chubbee, 
shouted  aloud,  and  the  whole  face  of  the  congrega- 
tion looked  as  if  a  new  life  had  animated  them. 
Indeed,  I  thought  •  it  strange  that  during  the  whole 
service,  which  lasted  the  usual  time,  the  hundreds 
present  who  could  not  understand  me,  remained 
not  only  fixed  to  their  seats,  but  seeming  to  give 
close  attention  to  all  I  said.  May  God  be  pleased 
to  raise  fruit  from  it !  After  the  whole  service  was 
concluded,  and  the  ordination  over,  I  went  to  the 


432 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


rear  of  tlie  largest  tent,  wliere  Mrs.  Folsom,  my  in- 
teresting hostess,  had  had.  a  table  spread,  some 
thirty  feet  long,  with  abundance  of  provisions  of 
her  usual  good  quality — turkey,  bacon,  corned 
pork,  roast  pork,  etc.,  etc.,  all  right  Christianly  cold; 
and  having  eaten  heartily,  came  home  that  I  might 
rest — needing  rest." 

His  next  Conference  was  held  at  Washington, 
Ark.,  from  E"ovember  17th  to  23d.  There  were 
forty- three  travelling  preachers  stationed,  and  four 
admitted  on  trial.     During  the  session  he  was 

quartered  with  General  R  ,  where  he  was  most 

hospitably  entertained  in  a  family  of  wealth  and 
elegance.  "Let  me  introduce  you,"  he  says,  "to 
our  table.  "We  take  the  supper  last  evening  as  a 
specimen. 

"Gen.  E. :  'Bishop,  try  some  of  this  lobster.' 

"  'Thank  you.  General,  if  you  will  not  take  it  to 
be  an  encouragement  of  any  extravagance.  But 
really,  after  clams  from  ISTew  Orleans,  last  evening, 
have  we  now  lobster  from  Boston,  to  our  supper?' 

"Gen.  R.,  with  affected  gravity:  'Ah,  sir,  if  you 
only  knew  how  dreadful  those  curtain-lectures  are, 
you  would  understand  it.' 

"  '  Mrs.  R.,  I  protest  the  General  reflects  on  my 
understanding  by  that  remark.  I  am  too  old  a 
husband,  and  have  been  too  often  from  home,  not 
to  know  better  what  induces  such  purchases.' 

"Mrs.  R.,  smiling  with  a  blush:  'He  need  not 
apologize  for  bringing  me  a  lobster,  when  luxuri- 
ating in  all  the  good  things  they  have  at  Isew 


KIND  FRIENDS. 


483 


Orleans.  It  would  be  hard  if  he  did  not  even 
think  of  me.' 

"Bishop:  'Yes,  General,  I'll  take  the  lobster  to 
encourage  that  quality  in  you.' 

"  The  General,  helping  me :  '  That  is  the  way 
you  do  it  in  Carolina,  where  wives  are  governed 
by  their  husbands ;  but  here  in  Arkansas,  we  just 
do  as  our  wives  tell  us.' 

"  'And  Mrs.  E.  told  you  to  buy  the  lobster,  did 
sh.e?' 

"  '  1^0,  not  just  that ;  but  I  have  to  try  and  please 
her,  that's  all;'  and  a  hearty  laugh  ended  the  case 
of  the  lobster." 

The  Bishop  describes  his  hostess  as  one  of  the 
loveliest  women  he  had  ever  been  in  company  with. 
He  was  a  fine  judge  of  female  character;  and 
possessed  the  genius,  the  sense  of  the  beautiful, 
and  the  goodness  of  heart,  which  are  necessary  to 
a  proper  appreciation  of  that  somewhat  mysterious 
thing — woman-nature.  "I  really  felt  sorry,"  he 
says,  "  to  bid  this  kind  family  farewell.  Not  that 
I  care  a  fig  to  part  with  their  luxurious  table,  but 
themselves.  Kind  old  Mrs.  E.,  Mrs.  R.'s  mother, 
would  have  me  to  take  a  pair  of  large  woollen  socks, 
to  draw  over  my  shoes  and  ankles ;  while  R., 
generous  fellow,  would  examine  every  thing  about 
my  horse-equipage,  and  condemned  my  saddle  as 
not  being  of  the  right  Spanish  shape,  and  of  con- 
sequence not  so  easy  as  it  ought  to  be  ;  and  whether 
I  would  or  no,  he  put  his  saddle  on  my  horse,  in 
place  of  mine,  as  the  only  one  fit  to  ride.    I  shall 


434 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


take  it  home  with  me  if  I  can  get  it  there.  The 
tree  of  the  saddle  alone  cost  and  is  worth  ten  dollars." 

During  the  session,  Bishop  Capers  preached  on 
Sunday  morning,  on  Matt,  xviii.  1-4 ;  and  found 
still,  as  he  says,  "  a  considerably  new  sermon  in  an 
old  text.  Enlarged  especially  on  the  unreserved 
devotion  to  Christ,  which  the  Christian  ministry 
demands;  the  sinfulness  of  all  selfishness;  the 
wickedness  and  danger  of  all  pride ;  and  the  indis- 
pensable necessity  of  holiness,  that  the  minister  of 
Christ,  whatever  his  labors  or  character  may  be, 
might  be  accepted,  successful,  and  saved.  After- 
wards ordained  fourteen  Deacons  and  five  Elders. 
"What  a  well  of  living  water  the  Holy  Scriptures 
are  !  The  single  text  above  contains  truth  enough, 
implied  or  expressed,  to  form  a  safe  directory  and 
guide  on  the  way  to  heaven.  And  what  a  power 
for  good  comes  forth  with  the  word  of  Christ,  to 
make  the  veriest  babe  an  example  for  apostles ; 
while  the  insufficiency  and  nothingness  of  all 
human  reliance,  the  emptiness  and  vanity  of  the 
most  plausible  of  human  pretensions,  are  made 
manifest,  in  that  the  disciples,  in  the  midst  of  the 
benefits  of  Christ's  ministry,  fall  to  disputing  about 
a  question  of  personal  distinction,  lag  behind  their 
Master,  and  even  come  into  his  presence  and 
approach  his  person  with  their  minds  estranged, 
^  and  their  spirits  disordered  to  such  a  degree,  that 
a  child  might  serve  for  their  instructor." 

Leaving  his  kind  friends  at  Washington,  the 
Bishop  put  himself  into  his  new  Spanish  saddle, 


GOING  HOME. 


435 


and  turned  his  face  southward,  towards  San  Au- 
gustin,  the  seat  of  the  East  Texas  Conference, 
which  he  reached  after  a  pleasant  journey.  The 
session  was  a  protracted  and  laborious  one,  and 
closed  on  the  ITth  December.  He  stationed  twenty- 
four  preachers,  and  one  was  admitted  into  the 
travelling  ministry.  He  had  a  slight  attack  of 
fever  here,  taken  from  exposure ;  but  it  quickly 
yielded  to  treatment  prescribed  by  himself — boneset- 
tea  and  castor-oil.  He  was  not  sufficiently  reco- 
vered to  preach  on  Sunday;  but  performed  the 
ordination  service  at  his  own  room  on  Monday 
afternoon.  The  kind  attentions  of  his  hostess,  Mrs. 
Governor  Henderson,  were  unremitting. 

The  Texas  Conference,  held  at  Cedar  Creek 
Church,  December  29th  to  January  3d,  closed  his 
second  tour  of  Episcopal  visitations.  Six  preachers 
were  admitted  into  the  travelling  connection,  and 
thirty  stationed.  On  the  5th  January  he  reached 
Houston,  preached  at  eleven  o'clock,  and  the  next 
day  took  steamer  for  Galveston.  He  says  the  next 
day :  "  My  work  is  done,  and  I  go  home,  the  Globe, 
a  noble  boat,  with  ,a  favorite  old  captain,  being 
ready  to  depart  for  ISTew  Orleans,  to-morrow  morn- 
ing. I  have  travelled  since  the  10th  September 
upwards  of  three  thousand  miles — about  eleven 
hundred  on  horseback;  and  although  I  have 
been  on  the  road  almost  every  day  that  I  was  not 
in  Conference,  have  had  no  more  than  three  wet 
days  to  ride  in.  While  on  horseback,  had  to  ford 
eight  rivers,  and  creeks  I  know  not  how  many, 


436  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

witliout  experiencing  the  least  detention  or  incon- 
venience, or  even  liaving  to  pass  through  water 
more  than  knee-deep.  Goodness  and  mercy  have 
attended  me  in  all  the  way  I  have  come ;  and  in 
that  goodness  and  mercy  mil  I  trust,  with  thanks- 
giving, to  the  end." 

The  Globe  had  a  smooth  run  across  the  Gulf; 
and  .the  sentiment  of  the  beautiful  was  stirred  in 
the  good  Bishop's  soul,  by  the  scene  presented 
just  before  reaching  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi. 
He  thus  describes  it :  "  The  sunset  this  evening 
was  the  most  gorgeous  I  ever  gazed  at.  The  sea 
was  as  smooth  as  a  lake,  and  the  dappled  clouds, 
kindled  gloriously  over  it,  flung  down  upon  its 
silvery  bosom  such  a  brightness  as  could  not  be 
painted.  And  how  true  to  the  heavenly  light  were 
the  kindled  waters  !  just  as  it  should  be  where 
the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  in 
the  face  of  Jesus  Christ  has  been  revealed  to  the 
believer.  I  have  now  crossed  the  Mexican  Gulf, 
that  most  dreaded  part  of  my  whole  tour;  and 
here,  as  along  all  my  journey,  goodness  and  mercy 
have  most  remarkably  attended  me.  Great  im- 
provement in  the  appearance  of  the  plantations  as 
we  go  up  the  river :  the  buildings  better ;  cultiva- 
tion better  ;  plantations  larger ;  and  last,  not  least, 
there  seems  to  be  a  better  chance  to  keep  from 
drowning.  I  see  some  plantations,  every  foot  of 
which  is  evidently  lower  than  the  surface  of  the 
water  of  this  mighty,  booming  river,  which  is  kept 
off  by  an  embankment,  of  about  the  height  of  our 


GOING  HOME. 


43T 


rice-field  river-banks.  The  orange  trees,  with  their 
tempting  fruit,  are  the  only  very  pretty  things  I  see. 

"Arrived  at  New  Orleans  January  13th,  before 
one  o'clock  P.  M.  Learned  that  the  boat  for 
Mobile  would  start  at  three  o'clock.  Took  a  cab 
for  the  post-office,  and  thence  to  the  railroad  lead- 
ing to  the  Mobile  boat.  Got  to  the  railroad  in 
good  time,  but  none  too  soon ;  and  by  the  railroad 
to  the  steamboat,  which  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
after  set  off.  A  most  luxurious  dinner  of  several 
courses,  admirably  served,  came  on  at  four  o'clock. 
Such  fare  makes  it  really  cheap  to  be  carried  to 
Mobile  for  five  dollars. 

"  January  14.  ^Notwithstanding  her  silly  name, 
I  ara  now  on  board  of  the  Pride  of  the  West.  We 
got  to  Mobile  at  eight  o'clock  this  morning,  hav- 
ing been  detained  among  the  shallows  in  the  fog 
some  two  hours  during  the  night.  I  forgive  the 
California  her  gaudy  fixtures,  and  allow  her  also 
to  be  a  noble  boat.  It  realty  looks  strange  to  me, 
after  crossing  so  many  rivers  which  were  almost 
dry — the  Brazos  bridged  by  its  ferry-boat,  the 
Trinity  not  too  deep  to  be  forded,  the  Nueces  knee- 
deep,  and  even  Red  river  almost  fordable — to  see 
the  Mississippi  and  Alabama  rivers  so  full.  Had 
the  floods  been  in  '  the  West'  I  have  been  travelling 
through,  w^hat  had  become  of  me  and  my  pony? 
Mentioning  my  pony  calls  to  mind  that  I  have 
never  spoken  of  him  according  to  his  deserts.  I 
rode  him  a  thousand  miles,  over  mountains  not  a 
few,  without  his  once  stumbling  with  me,  though 


438 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


lie  could  not  have  been  much  used  before  I  got 
him,  being  under  five  years  old ;  and  he  was  equal 
to  the  best  of  horses  I  travelled  with,  and,  except 
one,  decidedly  superior  as  a  traveller,  both  for  the 
easiness  of  his  action,  and  his  progress  on  the  road. 
I  sold  him  at  a  word,  for  what  he  cost  me,  and 
would  not  have  taken  §30  more  for  him,  if  he  had 
been  in  South  Carolina.  A  very  pleasant  horse 
was  Mac ;  and  very  lucky  was  I  in  procuring  him : 
white,  nearly  every  hair  of  him,  just  fifteen  hands 
high,  thin-shouldered,  deep-chested,  light-footed; 
bought  and  sold  for  sixty  dollars." 

A  dear  lover  of  a  good  horse,  and  a  fine  judge  of 
his  points,  is  our  worthy  Bishop.  Let  the  tyro  in 
horse-fl.esh,  when  about  to  buy,  remember  the  ortho- 
dox canons  just  laid  down :  thin-shouldered,  deep- 
chested,  and  light-footed. 

Bishop  Capers  reached  Montgomery  on  the 
evening  of  the  16th,  voting  the  Pride  of  the  West 
a  good  boat,  and  exceedingly  well  managed,  worthy 
to  be  classed  with  th6  Globe  and  the  California. 
On  the  19th  he  reached  home:  how  dear  to  a  man 
of  his  exquisite  family-feeling  such  a  home  as 
greeted  him  would  naturally  appear,  after  an 
absence  so  long  and  labors  so  intense,  may  be 
conceived  more  readily  than  described. 


DR.    BASCOM.  439 
I 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

Dr.  Bascom  visits  South  Carolina — His  mind  and  manners — Meeting 
of  the  Bishops  and  Commissioners  of  the  Church  suit  called  by 
Bishop  Soule — Bishop  Capers's  third  and  fourth  tours  of  visita- 
tions. 

Early  in  1848,  Francis  W.,  eldest  son  of  Bishop 
Capers,  who  had  been  for  some  years  a  professor 
and  officer  of  the  State  Military  Academy,  was 
elected  Professor  of  Ancient  Languages  and  Litera- 
ture in  Transylvania  University,  of  which  institu- 
tion Dr.  Bascom  was  then  President.  In  April, 
Dr.  Bascom,  who  had  made  a  tour  through  Ala- 
bama and  Georgia,  spent  a  week  in  Charleston, 
and  attended  the  camp-meeting  held  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  city.  This  was  the  only  visit  ever  made  to 
South  Carolina  by  that  distinguished  man.  It  is 
almost  needless  to  add  that  his  preaching  made  a 
profound  sensation.  An  eminent  legal  gentleman 
of  Charleston,  after  hearing  this  master  of  sacred 
eloquence,  said  that  he  had  listened  to  Chalmers 
and  Robert  Hall,  but  was  constrained  to  give  the 
palm  to  Bascom.  There  was  a  singular  interpene- 
tration  of  the  logical  and  poetic  faculties  in  Dr. 
Bascom' s  mind.     In  preaching,  his  imagination 


440  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

commonly  won  the  lead  of  Ms  logic — tlie  poet  got 
the  mastery  of  the  dialectician."  His  fervid  genius 
delighted  to  vivify  and  incarnate  its  thoughts  with 
the  force  and  in  the  form  of  scenic  representation. 
And  in  this  he  supposed  he  was  carrying  with  him 
the  sympathies  of  the  general  mind  of  the  country, 
even  though  it  might  be  at  the  expense  of  disap- 
pointing the  fastidiousness  of  cultivated  taste. 
The  main  fault,  as  we  suppose,  which  a  severe 
critical  judgment  would  find  in  this  inter-play  of 
leading  mental  powers,  is  that  it  is  liable  to  inter- 
fere with  the  unity  of  the  sermon,  and  to  detract 
somewhat  from  the  definite  final  efiect  it  is  meant 
to  have.  Even  a  poet  may  have  too  much  imagina- 
tion, as  was  the  case  with  Spenser.  The  "Fairy 
Queen"  is  a  series  of  glittering  tableaux,  each  the 
most  beautiful  of  all  scene-painting  in  our  language 
and.  literature ;  but  by  their  very  brilliancy  and 
rapid  succession  complicating  and  interfering  with 
the  thread  of  the  story;  and  leaving  at  last  some- 
thing of  a  confused  impression  of  the  whole  upon 
the  reader's  mind.  While  in  South  Carolina,  Dr. 
Bascom  received  the  attentions  of  leading  gentle- 
men both  in  Charleston  and  Columbia — men  who, 
in  point  of  manners,  were  peers  of  princes.  In 
company  with  them  he  maintained  a  noble  and 
graceful  ease,  as  though  he  had  been  dandled  on 
the  knee  of  affluence,  and  had  mixed  with  titled 
society  from  his  boyhood.  This  is  mentioned 
merely  to  correct  an  impression  of  a  different  kind; 
sought  to  be  made  since  his  death. 


EN    llOUTE    FOE    LOUISVILLE.  441 

The  General  Conference  of  tlie  ISTortliern  Me- 
thodist Episcopal  Church  was  held  in  May,  at 
Pittsburg.  By  this  body,  from  the  councils  of 
which  Drs.  Olin,  Bangs,  Levings,  and  others  of  the 
'  foremost  men  of  the  Church  had  been  excluded, 
the  Plan  of  Separation  adopted  in  1844,  by  which 
the  organization  of  the  Southern  Conferences  had 
been  authorized,  was  repudiated.  The  frivolous 
pretences  on  which  this  act  was  done,  it  is  aside 
from  our  purpose  to  notice  here.  It  became  neces- 
sary, however,  that  immediate  measures  should  be 
taken  to  secure  the  portion  of  the  Book  Concern 
which  was  the  property  of  the  Southern  Church. 
A  meeting  of  the  Bishops  and  Commissioners  was 
accordingly  called  by  Bishop  Soule,  in  June.  They 
met  at  Louisville,  Kentucky,  September  6th. 

Before  leaving  Charleston,  Bishop  Capers  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  his  charming  daughter, 
Emrna  Haslope,  united,  in  marriage  to  the  Rev. 
Samuel  B.  Jones — a  marriage,  alas  !  crowned  with 
but  a  few  brief  years  of  connubial  felicity,  Mrs. 
Jones  having  survived  her  father  but  a  month  or 
two.  By  him  she  was  fondly  loved,  and  was 
eminently  worthy  of  a  father's  affection. 

On  the  16th  of  August  the  Bishop  set  off  from 
Charleston,  en  route  for  Louisville.  He  preached 
at  "Wilmington  the  next  night,  spent  Sunday  in 
Petersburg  with  the  family  of.  his  attached  friend, 
D'Arcy  Paul,  Esq.,  and  filled  the  pulpit  in  Wash 
ington  Street  Church.  The  following  Sunday  he 
passed  at  Pittsburg.  Hoping  to  find  his  son,  Pro- 
19* 


442  LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

fessor  Capers,  who  liad  just  been  married  to  a  sister 
of  Dr.  Bascom,  at  Lexington,  he  left  the  river  at 
Maysville.  He  must,  of  course,  be  invited  to 
preach  at  night.  They  gave  him  a  good  congrega- 
tion, at  least,  on  short  notice.  He  was  disap- 
pointed next  morning,  by  the  information  that 
he  would  not  be  able  to  see  his  new  daughter  at 
Lexington,  since  "the  birds  were  flown,"  Professor 
and -Mrs.  Capers  having  left  on  the  day  of  their 
marriage  for  a  bridal  tour  "  over  the  hills  and  far 
away."  Returning  to  the  Ohio  river,  the  Bishop 
reached  Louisville  in  time  for  the  meeting  called 
by  Bishop  Soule,  but  suffering  considerably  from 
asthma.  All  the  Bishops  attended  this  meeting, 
and  were  in  consultation  with  the  Commissioners 
of  the  Church.  The  result  of  their  deliberations 
was  a  determination  to  institute  the  necessary  suits 
at  law,  as  soon  as  practicable,  for  the  recovery  of 
the  funds  and  property  falling  due  to  the  Southern 
Church,  under  the  contract  of  the  Plan  of  Separa- 
tion. If  was  arranged  here,  that  Bishop  Capers, 
after  attending  the  Kentucky  and  Louisville  Con- 
ferences, should,  in  accommodation  to  Bishop 
Paine,  take  the  Eastern  District,  beginning  at  the 
Virginia  Conference.  Accordingly,  he  entered 
upon  his  third  tour  of  visitations,  attending  the 
Kentucky  Conference,  at  Flemingsburg.  Here  he 
had  the  pleasure  to  see  his  "  new  daughter" — the 
bridal  tour  having  been  shortened  to  allow  him  that 
satisfaction.  From  Flemingsburg  he  went  to  Har- 
dinsburg,  Kentucky,  and  held  the  Louisville  Con- 


NORTH    CAROLINA    CONFERENCE.  443 

fereuce.  The  session  was  harmonious  and  happy, 
and  the  public  worship  made  a  blessing  to  many. 

Apprehending  delay  from  low  water  in  the  Ohio, 
he  went  by  the  way  of  ITashville  and  Charleston  to 
Elizabeth  City,  the  seat  of  the  Virginia  Confer- 
ence. This  route  allowed  him  the  unexpected 
pleasure  of  four  days  with  his  family.  On  the  25th 
October^  he  set  out  for  Elizabeth  City,  where  the 
Virginia  Conference  closed  a  laborious  but  peace- 
ful session  of  nine  days,  on  the  9th  E^ovember.  A 
question  having  arisen  in  regard  to  the  probable 
effect  upon  the  case  at  law,  if  the  society  at  Fred- 
ericksburg should  be  recognized  as  adhering  to 
the  Southern  organization,  and  supplied  with  a 
preacher  from  the  Virginia  Conference,  supposing 
their  case  not  to  be  specifically  provided  for  in  the 
Plan  of  Separation,  Bishop  Capers  considered  it 
proper  to  submit  the  question  to  the  Hon.  Eeverdy 
Johnson,  one  of  the  counsel  of  the  Church,  South. 
He  accordingly  went  to  Baltimore  at  the  conclusion 
of  the  Conference,  and  had  a  satisfactory  interview 
with  Mr.  Johnson.  This  incident  illustrates  the 
prudence  and  caution  of  the  Bishop,  and  his  fear- 
less self-sacrifice.  The  weather  was  particularly 
bad,  and  his  exposure  to  wet,  frost,  and  snow,  on 
the  way  to  Baltimore,  and  thence  to  Danville, 
brought  on  an  aggravation  of  the  affection  of  the 
chest  under  which  he  was  suffering.  He,  however, 
held  the  l^orth  Carolina  Conference,  and  was  kindly 
taken  from  Danville  to  Goldsboro,  by  the  Eev.  D. 
B  Nicholson,  very  comfortably  in  his  carriage. 


444 


LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPEES. 


The  session  of  tlie  South  Carolina  Conference 
was  held  at  Spartanburg,  and,  for  the  first  time,  in 
one  of  the  mountain  districts  of  the  State.  .The 
weather  was  fine,  and  a  large  number  of  persons 
attended  from  the  surrounding  country.  The  im- 
pression made  by  the  Conference  was  fine,  and  a 
short  and  very  pleasant  session  was  closed  with  a 
peculiarly  appropriate  and  impressive  address  from 
Eishop  Capers. 

At  the  G-eorgia  Conference,  he  found  himself  so 
unwell  as  not  to  be  able  to  occupy  the  President's 
chair  on  Friday  and  Saturday.  A  genial  change 
in  the  weather,  however,  allowed  him  to  attend  on 
Sunday  morning  to  the  ordination  services,  after 
Dr.  Lovick  Pierce  had  preached  a  sermon  very  ap- 
propriate to  the  occasion.  This  session  was  held 
in  Augusta  ;  and  there  were  twenty-three  preachers 
admitted  into  the  travelling  connection. 

The  Florida  Conference,  which  ended  Bishop 
Capers's  present  route  of  visitations,  was  held  at 
Albany,  and  closed  on  the  5th  February.  He  was 
able  to  preside  in  tolerably  good  health.  Previously 
to  his  setting  out  for  Florida,  his  daughter,  Sarah 
Ann,  was  married  to  Mr.  W.  M.  Sage,  a  young 
merchant  of  Charleston. 

In  March,  he  dedicated  a  Methodist  church 
edifice  in  the  town  of  Beaufort,  South  Carolina. 
This  visit  throughout  was  one  of  great  satisfaction. 
His  health  was  improving  with  the  opening  of 
spring.  The  air  was  fragrant  with  the  perfume  of 
the  jasmine ;  and  beiug  accompanied  in  the  same 


DEDICATION   AT   BEAUFORT.  445 

carriage  by  two  attached  friends,  each  a  good  lis- 
tener, the  Bishop  developed  all  his  charming 
powers  of  conversation.  The  dedication  sermon 
which  he  preached  was  highly  appropriate  to  the 
time  and  circumstances.  His  text  was  the  follow- 
ing: "For  we  stretch  not  ourselves  beyond  our 
measure,  as  though  we  reached,  not  unto  you ;  for 
'we  are  come  as  far  as  to  you  also,  in. preaching  the 
gospel  of  Christ."  The  town  being  made  up  prin- 
cipally of  planters'  residences,  with  an  intelligent 
though  not  large  population,  divided  in  their  reli- 
gious preferences  between  the  Episcopalian  and 
Eaptist  denominations,  there* had  been  but  little 
-  opening  for  the  erection  of  a  Methodist  church, 
although  the  Methodist  missionaries  had  been,  en- 
gaged for  several  years  in  preaching  to  the  blacks 
on  the  neighboring  islands.  A  successful  effort, 
however,  had  been  made  to  build  a  church,  by  the 
liev.  D.  D.  Cox,  then  in  charge  of  the  missionary 
work.  In  preaching  on  the  text  just  mentioned. 
Bishop  Capers  maintained  that  Methodism  did  not 
seek  to  interfere  with  established  religious  organ- 
izations ;  was  abhorrent  of  the  sectarian  spirit,  in 
the  offensive  sense  of  that  term;  never  aimed  at 
proselytism.  jN'evertheless,  it  had  a  mission  even 
in  a  small  community  where  other  churches  were 
planted,  inasmuch  as  there  were  always  persons  and 
families  in  such  a  community  who  might  be 
reached  and  benefited  hj  its  peculiar  instrument- 
alities, who  had  not,  in  point  of  fact,  been  brought 
into  other  communions.    And  what  though  this 


446 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


class  might  not  embrace  many  of  the  rich,  refined, 
or  highly-educated  ?  It  was  the  glory  of  Christ's 
gospel  that  it  held  a  difierent  point  of  view  from 
that  which  worldly  wisdom  might  have  suggested, 
for  its  operations.  It  began  at  the  bottom  and 
worked  upwards :  the  othet"  would  fain  begin  at 
the  top  and  work  downwards.  The  measure  of 
Methodism  stretched  to  all  unoccupied  ground ; 
and  its  results,  in  fact,  had  never  been  confined 
within  the  mere  limits  of  its  own  peculiar  organ- 
ization. It  went  for  the  revival  and  spread  of 
spiritual  religion  everywhere ;  and  many  of  its 
fruits  were  seen  adorning  the  enclosures  of  other 
communions — lost,  indeed,  to  Methodism,  but  that 
was  no  great  matter,  if  they  were  gained  to  heaven 
in  the  end.  These  salient  points  were  enlarged 
upon  with  a  richness  of  illustration  and  a  strength 
of  appeal,  in  keeping  with  his  high  reputation  as 
a  preacher,  and  made  the  occasion  one  of  great 
interest. 

The"  state  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church' 
South,  as  reported  in  the  general  minutes,  published 
early  in  1849,  presented  a  gratifying  picture  of 
prosperity  and  advancement.  There  were  in  the 
connectional  union  nineteen  Annual  Conferences, 
four  Bishops,  one  thousand  four  hundred  and 
seventy-six  travelling  preachers,  three  thousand 
and  twenty-six  local  preachers,  and  in  the  member- 
ship of  the  Church  four  hundred  and  ninety-one 
thousand  seven  hundred  and  eighty-six  whites,  and 
one  hundred  and  thirty-four  thousand  one  hundred 


EPISCOPAL    VISITATIONS.  447 


and  fifty-three  colored,  and  three  thousand  three 
hundred  and  seventy-five  Indians — exhibiting  an 
increase  upon  the  returns  of  the  previous  year  of 
twenty-six  thousand  two  hundred  and  thirty-three. 
The  Southern  organization  was  surely  able  to  take 
care  of  itself,  by  the  blessing  of  God;  and  that  the 
Divine  blessing  rested  upon  it  was  shown  by  its 
vigorous  growth.  Its  preachers  were  doing  evangel- 
ical  work.- — not  mixing  themselves  up  with  political 
affairs,  not  drawn  aside  from  their  proper  vocation 
by  schemes  of  pseudo  philanthropy.  Their  zeal  was 
not  the  fire  of  fanaticism,  but  a  solemn,  tender  con- 
cern for  the  salvation  of  men's  souls ;  their  exclu- 
sive business  was  "to  preach  the  unsearchable 
riches  of  Christ." 

Bishop  Capers  left  home  on  his  fourth  round  of 
Episcopal  visitations  late  in  August.  He  reached 
I^ashville  on  Saturday  evening,  September  1st,  and 
preached  at  McKendree  Church  next  morning. 
The  day  after,  he  paid  a  visit  to  Bishop  Soule.  He 
reached  Louisville  on  the  6th,  nothing  injured  by 
travelling,  but  rather  "braced  up."  He  attended 
in  succession  the  Kentucky,  Louisville,  Tennessee, 
Memphis,  Mississippi,  and  Alabama  Conferences. 
The  sessions  were  pleasant  in  the  main ;  but  he 
felt  sorely  the  want  of  more  preachers  to  supply  the 
opening  and  extending  fields  of  labor.  Notwith- 
standing this  deficiency,  there  was  reported  in  five 
Conferences  an  increase  of  upwards  of  five  thou- 
sand members.    The  following  letter,  written  dur- 


448 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


ing  this  tour,  shows  his  grateful  sense  of  a  super- 
intending Providence : 

"After  the  manner  of  the  most  kind  Providence, 
which  has  attended  me  along  all  the  way  of  my 
journeying,  from  the  beginning  till  now,  I  have 
threaded  the  dangerous  navigation  of  the  Eed 
river,  up  and  down,  from  Xew  Orleans  to  Shreve- 
port,  and  back  again,  without  hurt  or  harm,  and 
am  now,  after  a  smooth  passage  across  the. Lakes 
Ponchartrain  and  Bourne,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
river  below  Mobile.  Every  boat,  I  was  told,  that 
had  ascended  the  Ped  river  this  season,  not  ex- 
cepting the  one  after  me,  lost  some  passengers 
by  cholera;  but  my  boat,  and  one  of  the  worst  and 
dirtiest  I  ever  was  on,  though  crowded  beypnd  all 
probable  excess,  so  that  the  clerk  fold  me  we  had, 
little  and  big,  black  and  white,  five  hundred  pas- 
sengers on  board,  had  not  one  case.  One  old  man 
died  on  board  of  asthma.  I  have  no  asthma. 
What  is  to  come  may  well  be  confided  to  '  the  will 
Divine;'. but  in  all  my  travelling  for  more  than 
forty  years,  by  stagecoach,  by  railroad,  by  ship,  and 
by  steamboat,  no  accident  has  ever  happened  to 
hurt  me,  or  any  one  else  travelling  with  .me,  to  this 
day.  Verily,  there  is  a  Providence  which  watches 
•overmen!" 

Surely  he  had  good  reason  to  "remember  all 
the  way  which  the  Lord  his  God  had  led  him"  for 
forty  years  through  the  wilderness.  And  pleasant 
must  the  recollection  have  been  to  his  mind,  that 


THE   DESCENDING  SUN. 


449 


this  guiding  eye  and  sustaining  hand  had  been 
over  him  while  engaged  directly  and  with  fall 
strength  in  the  blessed  work  of  his  Divine  Master. 
The  past  was  safe !  The  witness  was  with  God, 
and  the  record  on  high.  "Would  he  have  exchanged 
the  sublime  satisfaction  of  such  a  train  of  re- 
flection for  all  the  honors  and  dignities  which 
worldly  success,  the  loftiest,  the  widest,  could  have 
entailed  ? 

The  foregoing  letter  was  written  a  day  or  two 
before  his  sixtieth  birthday.  He  had  already 
touched  the  summit  of  his  strength  and  vigor. 
The  remaining  five  years  of  his  life  was  a  period 
of  decadence:  gracious  and  graceful  to  the  last, 
but  no  longer  the  William  Capers  of  former  days  1 
He  cannot  now  travel  at  night  without  suffering. 
A  long  day's  ride  entails  stiffness  and  soreness. 
The  elasticity  which  carried  him  erect  and  buoyant 
over  so  many  fields  and  through  such  great  labors, 
loses  its  springs  under  the  heavy  hand  of  time. 
The   eloquence  which  in  former  years  so  often 

"  Flew  an  eagle  flight,  forth  and  right  on," 

has  less  daring  in  its  pinion,  less  precision  in  its 
swoop  and  aim  perhaps.  His  preaching,  however, 
had  the  heightened  charm  with  which  veneration 
clothes  the  words  of  wisdom  from  the  lips  of  age  and 
long  experience.  A  softened  lustre  shone  from  the 
descending  sun;  and  the  graces  and  virtues  of 
religious  character,  tested  and  made  illustrious  by 
15 


450  LIFE    OP    WILLIAM  CAPEKS. 

SO  many  years  of  public  service,  produced  but  tlie 
deeper  impression  tbe  nearer  he  drew  to  that 
solemn  and  glorious  land, 

"  Where  life  is  all  retouched  again." 


EPISCOPAL  VISITATIONS. 


451 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

General  Conference  at  St.  Louis — Fifth  tour  of  visitations — Writes 
his  Autobiography — Illness  at  Augusta — Sixth  tour — Correspond- 
ence. 

Bishop  Capers  attended  tlie  second  General  Con- 
ference of  tlie  Methodist  Episcopal  Churcli,  South, 
which  was  held  at  St.  Louis,  Missouri.  The  session 
was  a  brief  one,  cholera  having  made  its  appear- 
ance in  the  city,  and  threatening  to  become  rapidly 
epidemic.  Indeed,  one  of  the  members  of  the 
Georgia  delegation,  the  Rev.  Isaac  Boring,  fell  a  vic- 
tim to  the  disease.  The  necessary  business  was  gone 
through,  however,  and  an  additional  Bishop  elected 
and  consecrated.  This  was  Dr.  Bascom,  for  whom 
Bishop  Capers  entertained  the  warmest  affection, 
and  whose  distinguished  career  closed  four  months 
afterwards,  amidst  profound  and  universal  regrets. 

The  plan  of  Episcopal  visitations  assigned  to 
Bishop  Capers  the  Holston,  Tennessee,  Memphis, 
Mississippi,  and  Alabama  Conferences  for  the  first 
year  of  the  new  C[uadrennial  term.  He  attended 
all  these  Conferences,  and  in  the  discharge  of  the 
duties  of  his  office  was  called  on  to  station  five 


452  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

hundred  and  fifty  preachers.  The  year  had  heen 
one  of  prosperity;  and  particularly  irl  the  Holston, 
Memphis,  and  Tennessee  Conferences  very  gracious 
revivals  had  taken  place.  The  visits  of  the  Bishop 
were  highly  appreciated. 

On  his  return  he  spent  some  six  weeks  in  the 
spring  of  1851  with  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Ellison,  at 
the  Wesleyan  Female  College,  Macon,  Georgia, 
where  he  wrote  the  recollections  of  his  early  years 
found  in  the  former  part  of  this  volume.  This  auto- 
biographical sketch  he  describes  to  his  daughter, 
Mrs.  Jones,  while  composing  it,  as  being  "  a  plain 
narrative,  in  which  I  am  chiefly  concerned  to  set 
down  facts,  which  perhaps  may  be  interesting,  at 
least  to  my  children."  The  importance  of  under- 
taking this  work  had  been  earnestly  pressed  upon 
his  attention  by  several  of  his  intimate  friends, 
who  believed  that  his  reminiscences  of  that  period 
of  Methodistic  history  in  the  South  Carolina  Con- 
ference covered  by  his  early  labors,  would  be  a 
contribution  to  the  literature  of  the  Church  of  in- 
estimable worth.  He  contemplated  a  continuation 
of  the  narrative  of  his  life,  but  never  added  a  line 
to  what  he  had  written  at  Macon. 

By  the  kindness  of  the  Eev.  W.  G.  E.  Cunnyng- 
ham,  one  of  the  missionaries  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  South,  to  China,  we  are  enabled 
to  favor  our  readers  with  the  following  letters  from. 
Bishop  Capers,  the  first  of  which  was  written  at 
Macon.  Mr.  Cunnyngham  says  :  "Below  I  send  a 
copy  of  two  letters  written  by  Bishop  Capers,  one 


LETTER  TO   REV.    MR.   CUNNYNGHAM.  453 

addressed  to  Mrs.  Cunnyngliam,  and  the  other  to 
myself.  It  wiis  my  privilege  to  enjoy  the  friend- 
ship of  that  truly  great  and  good  man  for  several 
years  before  his  death.  The  letter  to  me  was 
written  before  my  appointment  to  China,  and  in 
answer  to  one  from  me  asking  for  advice  on  a 
subject  which  his  letter  sufficiently  explains.  The 
advice  he  gives  may  do  other  young  preachers 
good.  I  have  had  cause  to  thank  God  for  it. 
The  letter  to  Mrs.  C.  exhibits  some  of  the  finest 
traits  of  his  beautiful  character.  I  send  a  copy, 
because  I  do  not  wish  to  give  up  the  original 
letters ;  they  are  a  treasure  I  would  not  readily  part 
with. 

''Shanghai,  China,  May  18th,  1857." 

''Macon,  Ga.,  Feb.  18,  1851. 

"  My  dear  Brother  : — Yours  of  the  8d  inst.  has 
been  forwarded  to  me  at  this  place  from  Charles- 
•ton.  As  to  the  advice  you  ask,  you  may  trust  me 
to  any  length  you  please,  that  I  will  be  sincere  in 
giving  it,  as  if  it  were  to  my  own  son  ;  but  that  you 
may  equally  confide  in  the  wisdom  of  the  advice 
given,  is  another  question.  As  a  general  rule, 
admitting  of  but  few  exceptions,  one  should  never 
lift  a  foot  to  move  anywhere  without  light ;  light 
enough,  too,  not  only  to  see  any  disadvantages  of 
the  ground  occupied  at  the  time,  but  also  of  the 
ground  to  be  occupied  by  a  removal.  Every  one 
can  see  enough  to  be  dissatisfied  with  something, 
perhaps  much,  in  his  position  and  circumstances; 


454 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


and  it  is  a  misfortune  to  many,  that  they  incline 
more  to  ponder  the  evil  than  to  consider  the  good 
of  their  present  position ;  and  to  anticipate  the 
good  more  than  foresee  the  evil  of  a  proposed 
change.  I  would  choose  to  see,  before  I  made  any 
change  of  much  consequence,  both  that  it  should 
be  advisable,  and  that  it  should  be  advisable  noio. 
And  if  I  could  not  see  this,  I  would  deem  it  pru- 
dent to  keep  my  mind  easy  as  I  might,  without 
any  change,  and  wait  until  a  time  should  come  for 
me  to  see  more  clearly.  Always  see  your  way 
before  taking  it,  is  no  bad  rule  of  action.  Better 
wait  for  light  than  step  forth  in  the  dark,  or  even 
if  it  be  not  quite  dark.  When  I  was  young  in  the 
ministry,  I  was  much  worried  with  a  restless  desire 
for  change,  thinking  I  might  do  more  good,  for 
some  reason  or  other,  in  almost  any  other  place 
than  where  I  was ;  till,  finding  it  to  be  a  temptation, 
I  cast  it  from  me,  and  determined  to  take  my  allot- 
ment for  the  best,  be  it  where  it  might.  I  cannot 
but  suspect  that  in  part,  at  least,  you  too  are  some- 
what tempted.  The  great  matter,  my  dear  brother, 
is  not  where  or  for  what  persons  we  labor ;  but  how 
much  of  the  spirit  of  faith,  and  zeal,  and  humble 
love,  we  carry  to  our  work.  I  do  not,  at  present, 
like  the  idea  of  your  changing  your  Conference. 
^sTor  can  I  say  that  I  deem  your  reasons  sufficient. 

"You  have  not  told  me  whether  you  are  yet 
married  or  not,  nor  have  I  heard  from  any  other 
quarter.  What  you  say  in  your  letter  might  apply 
either  if  married  or  expecting  to  marry.  Suppose 


LETTER   TO    MRS.    CUNNYNGHAM.  455 

then  you  are  married.  Your  wife  will  be  even 
more  concerned  by  your  removal  to  another  Con- 
ference than  you  yourself.  A  parsonage,  or  board- 
ing-house, will  never  be  more  bearable  for  being 
beyond  the  reach  of  her  kin-folks  and  friends ;  but 
the  reverse.  E'ever  fear  that  we  will  locate  you,  or 
that  your  friends  will  locate  you,  even  should  they 
wish  you  to  locate,  as  long  as  you  maintain  the 
spirit  of  your  calling.  It  is  not  friends  and  kindred, 
so  much  as  oneself,  that  we  need  fear  under  a 

temptation.    As  to  my  dear   ,  whether  she 

is,  or  is  to  he,  your  wife,  she  is  not  the  stuff  to 
embarrass  you  in  your  duty ;  and  see  to  it,  on  your 
part,  that  you  suffer  no  restlessness  of  temptation 
to  add  a  feather  to  the  sufficient  burdens  of  a 
travelling  preacher's  wife  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  let 
it  be.  assiduously  and  constantly  your  care  to  have 
her  as  little  troubled  as  possible,  and  as  quiet  and 
happy  in  her  feelings  as  possible. 

"  My  most  affectionate  and  true-hearted  love  to 
all  the  family.    May  God  bless  them. 

"Your  very  sincere  friend, 

"W.  Capers."  . 

TO  MRS.  CUNNYNGHAM. 

"AsHEViLLE,  N.  C,  Sept.  27,  1852. 

"  My  dear  Bettie  :— It  was  kind  of  you  to  write 
me  from  !N"ew  York :  to  think  of  me  at  that  especial 
point  of  time  when  the  images  of  loved  ones  at 
home,  left  for  so  long  a  time,  and  so  far  away, 
must  have  held  a  peculiar  title  to  your  recollections. 


456 


LIFE    OE    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


Your  letter  was  most  grateful  to  me;  and  right 
heartily  and  afiectionately  do  I  thank  you  for  it. 
May  God  bless  you  abundantly,  my  dear  good 
daughter,  and  make  you  a  blessing  and  a  praise  to 
thousands,  while  you  shall  glorify  Him  by  a  life  of 
simple  faith  and  fruitful  charity. 

Before  you  shall  have  received  this  letter,  the  . 
pictures  of  imagination  will  have  been  superseded 
by  the  verities  of  missionary  life  in  China;  and 
you  will  have  begun  to  do  with  the  duties  and 
trials  of  your  great  undertaking :  duties  and  trials 
challenging  patience  and  forbearance,  without  the 
aid  of  the  stimulus  of  a  great  adventure  and  admir- 
ing friends.  You  are  in  China — a  missionary  in 
China.  Yes,  there  you  are,  for  the  testimony  of 
Jesus,  while  as  yet  a  seemingly  impracticable 
language  makes  you  deaf  and  dumb,  and  you  feel 
the  pain  of  that  most  irksome  of  all  the  forms  of 
solitude,  the  being  alone  in  the  midst  of  masses  of 
people.  You  have  neither  companionship  nor 
acquaintance  with  them,  though  you  have  left 
all  on  their  account.  City,  country,  forms  of 
society,  manners,  customs,  modes  of  life,  nothing 
is  like  home,  but  every  thing  repulsively  in  contrast 
with  it.  And  still  you  need  not  be  unhappy. 
Jesus  dwells  in  China;  and  you  know  the  secret 
of  his  presence,  and  its  power.  Most  pleasing  is  it 
to  his  love  and  goodness  to  satisfy  with  himself 
whatever  may  be  lacking  to  you  of  friends  and 
home-enjoyments.  The  promise  is  'a  hundred- 
fold.'   You  will  neither  think  nor  feel  as  if  the 


LETTER   TO   MRS.    OUNNYNGHAM.  457 

absence  of  so  mucli  that  gave  zest  to  life  in  America, 
must  necessarily  make  life  insipid  in  Cliina.  Think 
of  "home  as  if  you  were  at  home.  Think  nothing 
of  that  wide,  wide  sea ;  for  no  matter  for  its  count- 
less millions  of  waves — it  is  only  as  a  partition  of 
your  Father's  house,  separating  one  chamber  from 
another ;  Or  like  that  meadow  between  home  and 
your  schoolroom  at  Abingdon.  And  think  not  of 
the  •  days  to  come,  while  the  present  finds  you  as 
you  ought  to  be.  What  is  the  difference  between 
all  the  length  of  days  you  may  pass  in  China,  and 
the  few  hours  of  a  day  spent  at  school  ?  Let  them 
alone,  and  they  will  all  soon  be  the  same,  and 
shall  have  passed  away  like  a  dream ;  and  you 
shall  wonder  at  the  shortness  of  the  time.  Enjoy 
life  by  making  most  of  what  is  at  hand.  Make  an 
idol  of  nothing — not  even  of  your  husband  ;  but, 
nevertheless,  reckon  your  treasures  to  be  treasures. 
I  have  known  a  time,  when,  to  have  had  a  wife  back 
from  the  grave,  I  would  have  rejoiced  to  have  gone 
for  life  to  the  remotest  corner  of  the  earth,  with- 
no  other  associate,  friend,  or  neighbor,  but  herself 
alone.  That,  I  have  long  since  known,  was  idola- 
try, extreme  selfishness,  and  utter  folly;  but, 
thank  God,  you  have  Jesus  with  you,  to  bless  and 
sanctify  what  is  yours.  Be  happy,  then ;  be  always 
happy;  for  you  cannot  in  any  other  way  better 
please  God.  Be  always  employed ;  watch  against 
moody  thoughts;  take  as  much  exercise  as  suits 
the  climate ;  and  be  learning  something  when  you 
20 


458  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

go  abroad,  no  less  than  wtien  closeted  with  book 
and  teacher.  But  I  stop  a  lecture  which  I  did  not 
intend,  and  which,  I  begin  to  feel,  betrays  my  own 
weakness  more  than  is  becoming,  and  much  more 
than  may  be  profitable.  It  reads  too  much  as  if  I 
considered  you  as  weak — as  if  you  had  not  been 
baptized  with  the  Spirit  of  your  Master,  and  were 
in  danger  of  fainting  under  the  cross. 

"A  thousand  blessings  be  on  your  head,  my  dear 
Bettie,  and  your  husband  with  you.  May  God 
keep  you  as  He  only  can,  from  all  evil,  and  make 
you  a  blessing  to  many.  Much  love  to  brother 
Cunnyngham,  and  to  the  brethren  Taylor  and 
Jenkins  and  their  families. 

"Your  very  sincere  friend  and  brother, 

"W.  Capers." 

After  having  spent  some  three  months  in  Macon, 
Bishop  Capers  set  out  to  return  to  South  Carolina. 
On  his  way  to  Augusta  he  was  taken  suddenly 
sick,  but  was  able  to  reach  the  residence  of  his 
early  and  attached  friend,  John  H.  Mann,  Esq.,  of 
Augusta.  This  was  the  first  time  he  was  ever 
seriously  ill,  away  from  home.  But  the  house  of 
his  friend  and  brother,  Mann,  was  almost  the  same 
as  home  to  him.  His  family  were  sent  for;  the 
best  medical  aid  in  the  city  was  at  his  service ;  the 
kindest  and  most  unwearied  attentions  from  the 
truest  and  most  loving  of  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Mann,  were  given  him;  and  by  the  blessing  of 


RETURN    TO   CHARLESTON.  459 

Q-od  and  good  nursing,  lie  was  carried  through  an 
attack  which,  under  other  circumstances,  might 
have  proved  fatal. 

On  the  27th  of  May  he  wrote  as  follows  to  his 
daughter,  Mrs.  Stone :  I  am  still  confined  to  my 
room  and  physic,  after  a  month  and  a  day  of  doctor- 
ing. My  debility  continues  to  a  great  degree. 
Not  much  stronger  to-day  than  two  or  three  weeks 
ago,  but  relieved  of  pain.  Dr.  Means,  of  Oxford, 
called  on  me,  on  his  way  East,  and  told  me  it  must 
be  a  long  time  before  I  could  recover.  During  all 
the  earlier  and  severer  part  of  my  illness,  I  was 
more  and  much  more  than  sustained  by  the  exceed- 
ing grace  and  mercy  of  God,  which  was  made 
manifest  to  me  and  for  me,  in  Christ.  I  had  never 
any  fear,  any  doubt,  and  of  course  no  sadness,  nor 
even  sorrow,  though  in  much  pain  and  great  feeble- 
ness. I  still  have  my  mind  free,  and  what  is  too 
much  for  m^e  I  give  up  without  difficulty.  May 
the  blessed  will  of  God  be  completely  done  in  me, 
according  to  the  riches  of  his  grace  in  Christ  Jesus. 
This  is  all  that  is  now  of  any  consequence  or  con- 
cern. My  tender  love  to  your  sisters.  Tell  them, 
precious  girls,  that  I  have  been  very  near  home 
since  I  saw  them :  near  enough  to  know  that  veril}^ 
it  is  no  fabled  land,  but  the  true,  eternal  kingdom 
of  the  Son  of  God,  our  Saviour,  where  he  has  pre- 
pared places  for  us.  Tell  them  to  live  for  it,  and 
away  from  the  world,  that  they  may  attain  unto  it." 

By  the  middle  of  June  he  was  able  to  reach 
Charleston,  but  still  so  feeble  as  to  be  prevented 


460  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

from  performiug  the  least  service  whatever  beyond 
prayer  with  his  family.  He  held  himself  in  calm 
and  devout  resignation  to  the  Divine  providence, 
saying,  "If  God  will,  I  shall  work;  and  if  he  will 
it  rather,  I  shall  still  be  of  no  service  till  I  go 
hence."  His  health,  however,  in  a  week  or  two 
began  to  improve  rapidly;  and  he  was  able  to 
preach  in  Columbia  on  the  last  Sunday  in  June, 
and  with  unction  and  fervor.  At  the  edge  of  the 
grave,  he  had  caught  a  vivid  glimpse  of  eternity, 
and  with  the  full  impression  upon  his  spirit  he 
delivered  his  message  to  dying  men.  After  spend- 
ing several  weeks  at  Anderson  Court-house,  where, 
for  the  sake  of  the  climate,  he  contemplated  resid- 
ing in  future,  he  returned  to  Charleston  so  much 
recruited  as  to  undertake  his  tour  of  visita- 
tions. He  left  Charleston  early  in  August,  hoping 
to  attend  most  of  his  Conferences.  The  following 
correspondence  presents  an  account  of  his  move- 
ments : 

"St.  Louis,  Mo.,  Sept.  12. 
"  To  Augusta,  Atlanta,  and  as  far  as  Marietta, 
some  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  I  had  the  com- 
pany of  brother  and  sister  Shackelford,  and  a  very 
pleasant  time.  Reached  Chattanooga  Thursday 
evening,  and  was  presently  afterwards  in  the  stage- 
coach for  '  over  the  mountains  and  far  away.' 
Walked  up  the  first  mountain.  Walker's  Eidge, 
which  is  the  steepest  and  very  high,  though  not  the 
highest,  before  midnight  on  foot,  which,  after  such 


MISSOURI  CONFERENCE. 


461 


a  fatigue  as  travelling  from  Charleston  to  that 
point  without  rest,  I  thought  something  smart  for 
me  to  do.  Was  willing  to  pass  for  an  old  m-an,.and 
to  be  carried  by  the  horses  up  the  Cumberland,  on 
the  same  night.  Got  to  ITashville,  still  without' 
rest,  at  two  o'clock  in  the  njorning,  Saturday.  On 
Sunday  preached  twice.  Monday,  at  about  eleven 
o'clock,  took  boat  for  Paducah,  on  the  route  hither ; 
and  going  to  the  boat,  found  Bishop  and  sister 
Soule  on  board,  bound  for  Louisville.  How  lucky ! 
For  we  were  on  the  last  boat  that  would  be  able  to 
get  down  the  Cumberland  river,  and  to  have  missed 
her  would  have  obliged  me  to  take  another  hard 
day  and  night  stage-route  from  IN'ashville  to  Paducah. 
I  am  here  quite  soon  enough,  and  with  a  fair  pros- 
pect of  reaching  Fayette,  the  seat  of  the  Missouri 
Conference,  by  boat,  as  ^early  as  I  wish  to  do.  My 
journey  hither  has  done  me  no  harm,  and,  for  the 
much  that  remains,  we  have  only  to  exercise  a 
prayerful  trust  in  God,  who  is  the  living,  ever- 
present  God,  and  whose  providence  is  faithful  and 
unfailing,  whether  it  seem  to  us  prosperous  or 
adverse." 

"Fayette,  Mo.,  Sept.  27. 

"At  St.  Louis  it  was  my  purpose  to  come  up  in  a 
boat  to  a  town  on  the  Missouri  river,  Boonville, 
opposite  to  this  place ;  but  at  the  time  the  river 
was  deemed  too  low  for  a  certain  passage  in  reasona- 
ble time,  and  Dr.  Bond,  of  this  Conference,  (not 
of  Baltimore,)  kindly  offered  me  a  seat  in  his 


462  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

buggy,  and  brouglit  me  all  the  way,  stopping  two 
days  at  his  house  at  Danville,  and  all  in  due  time 
for  the  Conference.    We  are  getting  on  cleverly 
with  the  Conference,  and  have  no  hard  cases  of  any 
"kind  to  disturb  our  quiet.    You  will  not  be  sorry 
to  hear  that  I  have  been  advised  here,  and  have 
concluded  to  give  up  my  purpose  of  visiting  the 
Indian  Mission  Conference  as  impracticable,  or, 
'  at  least,  likely  to  put  it  out  of  my  power  to  visit 
the  Arkansas  Conference,  which  I  ought  by  all 
means  to  do,  as  it  has  already  been  two  successive 
sessions  without  a  Bishop.    As  well  as  we  can 
make  it  out,  I  should  have  to  ride  some  three 
hundred  and  sixty  or  eighty  miles  to  the  Indian 
Mission  Conference,  and  thence  to  the  Arkansas 
Conference  still  farther,,  perhaps   four  hundred 
miles.    This,  in  the  time  allowed  for  it,  I  could  not 
do,  especially  over  such  a  tract  of  country  as,  for 
much  of  the  distance,  I  should  hate.    I  expect  to 
return  to  St.  Louis,  and  thence  go  to  Memphis  by 
boat,  and  thence  to  Camden,  Arkansas,  as  may  be 
deemed  best.    I  continue  about  as  well  as  when  I 
left  you  ;  perhaps  never  again  to  be  as  strong  as  I 
have  been,  though  but  little  ailing.    Still,  I  eat 
pretty  heartily,  and  sleep  as  well  as  I  have  been 
accustomed  to  do  from  home.    0  that  I  could  rid 
myself  of  the  feeling  of  exile  which  so  constantly 
oppresses  me  in  these  long  absences  from  home ! 
Or  if  I  might,  would  it  not  be  substituted  by  some 
worse  feeling?    Perhaps  it  might;  but  I  greatly 
fear  that  I  am  chargeable  with  performing  an  un- 


EN   ROUTE    TO   ARKANSAS.  463 

willing  service ;  and  what  ouglit  I  not  to  be  willing 
to  dp  or  forego  in  the  service  of  my  Redeemer?" 

I 

''Memphis,  Tenn.,  Oct.  22. 

"I  WROTE  from  Fayette  and  St.  Louis,  to  the  latter 
of  which  places  I  returned  as  I  had  gone,  with  Dr. 
Eichard  Bond,  in  his  very  comfortable  buggy.  If 
there  were  such  pleasant  prairie  roads  along  the 
distance  from  Fayette  to  the  seat  of  the  Indian 
Mission  Conference,  and  thence  to  Camden,  as 
between  St.  Louis  and  Columbia,  I  should  have 
been  able  to  prosecute  that  route  without  doubt  or- 
difficulty.  Such  roads,  however,  extend  in  the 
direction  of  the  Indian  Territory  and  Arkansas  no 
farther  than  Warsaw,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  route, 
except  a  few  remaining  prairies,  lies  over  the  most 
rugged  country,  and  directly  across  all  the  lines  of 
travel,  for  full  four  hundred  miles  out  of  six 
hundred.  Indeed,  it  appeared,  from  the  informa- 
tion of  brethren  on  whom  I  could  rely,  that  Cam- 
den might  be  reached  from  Muddy  Spring  only  on 
horseback,  and  horseback  travelling  was  interdicted 
to  me  by  the  medical  men.  The  Indian  Mission 
Conference,  therefore,  had  to  be  given  up  as  of 
necessity,  and  the  Missouri  Conference  passed  a 
resolution  unanimously  advising  it  to  be  necessary, 
and  for  me  to  fall  back  on  the  rivers  as  the  only 
practicable  way  of  reaching  the  Arkansas  Confer- 
ence, where  my  presence  was  still  more  impera- 
tively called  for  than  at  the  Indian  Mission  Con- 
ference, there  not  having  been  a  Bishop  there  for  the 


4G4 


LIFE    or    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


last  two  sessions.  "We  had  a  very  pleasant  Confer- 
ence at  Fayette,  and,  I  trust,  a  profitable  one.  On 
my  part,  there  has  been  no  cause  of  complaint ;  on 
the  contrary,  I  have  every  reason  to  remember  tlie 
brethren  with  grateful  affection. — I  arrived  at  Men- 
phis  on  the  18th ;  got  a  horse  and  buggy,  put  them, 
on  a  steamboat,  and  go  down  to  ^Tapoleon,  a  little 
town  at  the  mouth  of  the  Arkansas  river,  where  I 
meet  another  boat,  which  goes  to  Pine  Bluff, 
within  seventy  miles  of  Camden,  and  having  a 
ridge  country  of  pine  land  lying  between  them, 
crossed  by  only  one  small  river.  One  of  the 
brethren  here,  perhaps  Dr.  Ebbert,  mil  accompany 
me.  We  start  to-morrow.  At  St.  Louis  I  preached 
twice  on  the  12th ;  here,  last  Sunday,  but  once ; 
but  I  make  up  for  it  by  having  preached  in  one  of 
the  churches  last  evening,  and  being  to  preach  in 
the  other  this  evening.  I  perceive  no  particular 
difference  in  my  health  since  leaving  home,  but 
only  find  that  I  am  much  more  easily  fatigued  than 
formerly,  and  cannot  endure  much.  Rough  roads 
are  my  particular  aversion,  and  travelling  over 
them  does  me  no  good.  I  think  I  have  ended  my 
stage-travelling  by  night,  unless,  perhaps,  between 
Augusta  and  Anderson.  But  what  are  rough  roads 
v^dth  you,  are  smooth  west  of  the  Mississippi,  (or, 
•indeed,  east  of  it  in  this  quarter,)  except  the  Mis- 
siouri  prairies  in  dry  w^eather.  The  utmost  I  ex- 
pect to  attempt  is  to  go  to  the  East  Texas  Confer- 
ence, at  Henderson,  Russ  county;  and  if  the  experi- 
ment between  Pine  Bluff  and  Camden  should  not 


LETTER   TO   HIS   ELDEST   SON.  465 

argue  favorably,  and  the  information  to  be  got  at 
Gamden  be  favorable  also,  as  to  the  route  thence  to 
]ip[enderson,  I  shall  not  go  farther  than  the  Arkan- 
slas  Conference." 

The  following  letter  is  to  his  eldest  son,  who  had 
shortly  before  connected  himself  with  the  Church : 

'  "Camden,  Ark.,  Nov,  17,  1851. 

"  My  dear  Frank  : — I  had  hoped  to  get  a  letter 
from  you  at  this  place,  but  have  not  been  favored 
with  one.  Yet  I  have  received  one  from  your 
mother,  which  has  given  me  no  little  pleasure  on 
your  account,  by  the  information  it  communicates 
of  your  having  joined  the  Church.  I  consider  this 
a  great  matter,  and  rejoice  for  it,  notwithstanding 
the  inadequacy  of  Church-membership,  or  any  other 
circumstantial  or  conventional  thing,  to  answer  the 
necessities  of  the  soul ;  because  it  puts  you  in  the 
way  o^  God's  institution,  and  therefore  a  hopeful 
way,  for  the  obtaining  of  all  your  wants — pardon, 
peace,  and  the  power  of  grace.  God  be  with  you, 
my  dear  son.  And  he  will'be  with  you,  as  sure  as 
he  has  been. with' me.  'The  mercy  of  the  Lord  is 
from  everlasting  to  everlasting  upon  them  that 
fear  him,  and  his  righteousness  unto  children's 
children.'  '  Thou  hast  avouched  the  Lord,  this  day, 
to  be  thy  God,  and  to  walk  in  his  ways,  and  to  keep 
his  statutes,  and  his  commandments,  and  his 
judgments,  and  to  hearken  unto  his  voice.  And 
the  Lord  hath  avouched  thee  this  day  to  be  his 
peculiar  people,  as  he  hath  promised  thee.'  " 
20* 


466 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


"  I  need  offer  you  no  advices,  nor  give  you  any 
cautions,  for  you  well  know  that  to  be  hearty  and 
diligent  in  duty,  doing  it  to  please  God,  and  be- 
cause he  has  appointed  it,  and  expecting  to  be 
accepted,  not  for  the  sake  of  the  deed  done,  but  for 
Christ's  sake,  whose  grace  consecrates  your  obedi- 
ence that  it  may  be  approved — this  and  this  only, 
being  God's  method  of  saving  you  through  his 
blessed  Son,  will  keep  jou.  in  the  hour  of  tempta- 
tion, and  carry  you  through  whatever  may  come, 
by  the  supply  of  the  Spirit  of  grace,  safely  and 
surely  to  the  end.  Christian  duty  is  never  to  be 
neglected,  and  is  never  a  thing  by  itself ;  but  done 
unto  the  Lord,  its  every  act  is  a  sacrament  of  grace, 
an  opportunity  of  meeting  with  Jesus,  and  obtain- 
ing his  blessing.  'Nor  may  the  duty  be  unblest 
because  it  may  not  at  the  time  be  attended  with 
any  sensible  comfort.  No,  nor  though,  instead  of 
the  comfort  of  joyful  emotions,  it  should  seem 
rather  to  be  an  occasion  of  discomfort.  (See  Gen. 
XV.  12.)  We  must  needs  be  variously  exercised 
that  we  may  know  our  dependence  on  '  the  blood 
of  sprinkling'  to  be  entire,  and  to  admit  of  no 
substitution,  at  all  times.  You  will  now  more  espe- 
cially consider  life  in  its  true  substantiality ;  not 
as  a  thing  of  fancy,  a  painted  show,  but  the  field 
of  moral,  intelligent,  responsible  action,  in  which 
every  man  is  to  perform  his  part  among  his 
fellows,  and  before  God,  for  all  eternity.  Not  as  if 
they  were  feathers  in  the  wind,  where  the  lightest 
might  fly  highest,  but  men  with  souls  in  their 


TRAVELLING    IN    ARKANSAS.  467 

bodies,  conscious  of  immortality,  and  using  time  to 
purpose.  Give  my  love,  my  tenderest  love  to  Han 
and  the  boys.  God  be  with  you  and  bless  you, 
my  dear  son. 

"  Your  affectionate  father, 

,    ^  "W.  Capers." 

The  following,  to  Mrs.  Capers,  is  dated.  iTew 
Orleans,  November  28,  1851 : 

"The  Conference  at  Camden  adjourned  on  Tues- 
day evening,  the  11th  inst.  And  what  from  my 
bruised  condition  by  the  roughness  of  the  road  to 
that  place,  and  the  close  applicatibn>  required  by 
my  duties  at  Conference,  I  was  quite  ailing,  so  that 
I  did  not  leave  Camden  till  the  Monday  afternoon 
after  the  adjournment,  not  feeling  able  to  encoun- 
ter the  road,  even  to  return  home.  This  decided 
me  to  sell  the  horse  and  buggy  I  had  bought  at 
Memphis,  for  I  thought  I  could  not  in  any  reason- 
able time  expect  to  travel  so  long  a  journey  as  was 
before  me,  even  over  better  roads,  by  that  convey- 
ance* Reserving  the  use  of  this  conveyance  to  take 
me  to  the  Mississippi  river,  I  set  out,  as  above,  with 
brother  Hunter,  who  accompanied  me  as  far  as  St. 
'Bartholomew  Bayou,  (creek,)  in  the  Mississippi 
swamp,  where  was  a  ferry  but  no  boat,  the  flat 
having  been  broken  and  being  under  repair.  Here 
I  dismissed  him  with  the  horse  and  buggy,  to  re- 
turn to  Camden,  one  hundred  miles,  and  put  my- 
self under  the  care  of  a  most  estimable  Christian 
gentleman  by  the  name  of  McD.ermot,  for  the  rest 


468  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

of  tlie  way  to  the  great  river,  it  being  only  eighteen 
miles.  Passed  a  pleasant  half  day  with  this  friend 
in  need,  and  was  sent  by  him,  well  attended,'  to  the 
river.  Passed  Sunday  there,  at  nothing,  and  Mon- 
day morning  got  passage  on  the  steamer  St.  Paul, 
of  St.  Louis,  for  Kew  Orleans,  where,  after  a  plea- 
sant trip  of  six  hundred  miles,  I  arrived  last  even- 
ing. The  steamboat  seems  to  be  the  very  thing 
for  me,  where  I  get  exercise  enough  without  effort, 
and  can  lie,  sit,  or  walk  at  pleasure;  and  during 
this  trip  I  have  been  recruiting  fast,  instead  of  suf- 
fering as  by  my  late  journeys  over  bad  roads. 
But  what  has  chiefly  and  decidedly  contributed  to 
my  better  condition  in  the  last  ten  days,  is  the  use 
of  Jew  David's  plaster  to  the  small  of  my  back. 
Without  this,  I  doubt  if  I  could  have  sustained 
the  ride  from  Camden,  Arkansas,  to  the  Mississippi 
river ;  whereas,  with  it,  I  was  enabled  to  do  so  with 
much  less  pain  than  in  the  ride  to  Camden,  and 
nothing  like  the  same  degree  of  exhaustion. 

"I  remain  here  until  December  1st,  and  shall 
then  pursue  the  ordinary  public  route,  resting  on 
the  way,  and  probably  calling  on  Anna  for  a  day 
or  two.    Hope  to  get  home  in  time  for  Christmas." 


THE    ITINERANT  SYSTEM. 


469 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

The  Methodist  itinerant'  system — Its  suitableness  to  the  expand- 
ing population  of  the  country — Statistics — Seventh  tour  of  visita- 
tions. 

The  thoughtful  reader  cannot  fail  to  be  impressed 
by  the  long  separations,  the  perilous  and  protracted 
journeyings,  the  wearing  thought,  in  addition  to  con- 
stant preaching,  involved  in  stationing  preachers 
and  providing  supplies  for  the  spiritual  wants  of 
large  portions  of  the  country,  which,  in  the  system 
of  itinerant  clerical  operations  in  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  fall  in  full  stress  upon  her  Epis- 
copal staff.  To  one  accustomed  to  the  quietude 
and  regularity  of  the  home-parish  system,  this 
might  seem  to  be,  very  much,  a  needless  expendi- 
ture of  muscle  and  brain,  of  men  and  means.  Such 
things,  it  might  be  thought,  were  very  well  for  the 
beginning  of  the  present  century,  and  for  the  times 
of  Francis  Asbury ;  but  surely  at  the  present  day 
the  mission  of  Methodism  might  be  supposed  to  lie 
mainly  in  the  pleasant  work  of  the  spiritual  edifi- 
cation of  the  multitudes  of  disciples  already 
gathered  into  its  fold.  There  is,  no  doubt,  work 
enough  of  this  sort.    But  it  is  forgotten  that  while 


470 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


ten  years  ago  the  Western  frontier  line  of  this 
country  moved  onward  at  the  average  rate  of  thir- 
teen miles  a  year,  bearing  the  ensigns  of  civiliza- 
tion into  rggions  covered  with  primeval  forests, 
wildernesses  untrodden  save  by  the  wild  beast,  or 
the  scarce  less  wild  Indian,  now  the  advancing  lines 
of  march  rush  forward  with  no  fixed  rule  of  pro- 
gression, made  up  of  columns  supplied  by  foreign 
immigration,  reaching  in  some  instances  to  a  half 
million  of  souls  a  year.  Think  of  the  ignorance, 
prejudices,  vices,  that  must  belong  to  myriads  of 
these  Eastern  hordes !  They  are,  nevertheless, 
henceforth  to  be  part  of  the  American  people. 
Our  free  institutions  are  to  mould  them,  or  to  be 
overthrown  by  them.  The  Mormon  rebellion  is 
the  first  instalment  of  possible  future  trouble.  The 
statesman  grapples  with  the  gigantic  problem  of 
the  future  status  of  the  republic,  and  investigates 
the  conditions  under  which  it  becomes  possible 
that  this  heterogeneous  mass  may  be  brought  up  to 
the  right  position  for  self-government.  The  Chris- 
tian asks  himself.  What  moral  and  religious  re- 
sources are  at  command,  to  leaven  this  mighty 
aggregation  of  souls  with  the  principles  of  spiritual 
religion  ?  Shall  the  westward  march  of  the  nation 
be  signalized  by  churches  and  schoolhouses,  as  the 
milestones  of  its  grand  progression  ?  and  the 
amenities,  and  domestic  charities,  and  intellectual 
trophies  of  a  Christian  civilization,  bloom  and 
blossom  in  the  late  wilderness  of  nature  ?  And  if 
so,  how  is  this  consummation  so  devoutly  wished 


THE    ITINERANT  SYSTEM. 


471 


for  by  tlie  lover  of  his  country  to  be  accomplished? 
The  answer  is,  it  must  be  brought  about,  under 
God's  blessing,  to  a  great  extent  by  the  peculiar 
genius  of  the  Methodist  itinerancy.  The  preacher 
of  the  gospel,  and  by  eminence  the  Methodist 
preacher,  is  destined  to  bear  a  conspicuous  and 
glorious  part  in  this  achievement.  This  must  be 
so  from  the  fact  that  the  Methodist  itinerancy  fur- 
nishes the  trained  discipline,  the  almost  military 
economy,  the  rapid  combinations,  and  central  effi- 
ciency of  a  system  of  camp-meetings,  circuits.  Pre- 
siding Elders'  districts,  and  Annual  Conference 
organizations — the  simplicity,  directness^  and  vigor 
of  evangelic  aggression ;  and  the  oversight  of  a 
general  Episcopal  superintendency,  directing,  en- 
couraging, animating  the  whole  apparatus  of  men 
and  measures,  and  pushing  the  missionary  column 
in  the  direction  claimed  by  the  strongest  emer- 
gency. Here  are  Bishops  who,  to  the  sagacity, 
wisdom,  and  veneration  obtained  from  years  of  ser- 
vice, add  the  vigor  of  hardy  pioneers  who  ride  on 
horseback  a  thousand  miles  on  a  stretch,  along  the 
frontier  of  civilized  life.  It  has  been  said  of  the 
Methodism  of  fifty  years  ago,  that  it  had  no  ruf- 
fles or  lawn  sleeves  that  it  cared  to  soil,  no  love- 
locks that  it  feared  to  disorder,  no  buckles  it  was 
loth  to  tarnish.  It  lodged  roughly,  and  it  fared 
scantily.  It  tramped  up  muddy  ridges,  it  swam  or 
forded  rivers  to  the  waist ;  it  slept  on  leaves  or  raw 
deer-skin,  and  pillowed  its  head  on  saddle-bags; 
it  bivouacked  among  wolves  or  Indians;  now  it 


472  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

suffered  from  ticks  or  mosquitoes — it  was  attacked 
bv  dogs,  it  was  hooted,  and  it  was  pelted — hut  it 
throve.''  Yes,  it  throve;  it  grew  like  the  moun- 
tain oak,  in  dark  weather,  dandled  hj  stormy 
winds.  Manifestly,  it  was  the  very  thing  far  the 
time  and  country,  fifty  years  ago.  The  physical 
conditions  are  not  quite  so  hard  now;  hut  the 
system  still  has  exactions  sufficient  to  test  and  call 
out  the  heroic  in  the  temper  and  spirit  of  the  men 
who  work  it.  -  Obviously,  the  adaptation  of  such  a 
missionary  organization  to  present  circumstances 
is  no  less  signal  than  it  was  to  the  circumstances 
of  a  half  century  since.  The  salient  point  of  its 
doctrinal  system  is  the  principle  that  redemption 
by  Christ  is  general,  and  that,  consequently,  Chris- 
tianity is  a  universal  I'em&dy  for  the  sin  and  woe 
of  the  world.  In  the  spirit  of  this  leading  prin- 
ciple of  its  theology,  all  its  arrangements  look  to  a 
constantly  progressive  movement  for  evangelizing 
the  country,  the  breadth  of  the  Xorth  American 
continent  being  the  base  of  its  operations,  and  new 
enterprises  the  soul  of  its  itinerancy.  Personal  in- 
conveniences sink  out  of  sight  in  the  presence  of 
great  principles  of  action,  such  as  these.  In  the 
grandeur  of  a  purpose  so  vast  and  comprehensive, 
so  many-sided,  touching  the  interests  of  society  at 
such  vital  points.  Bishop  Capers  might  well  have 
wished  himself  young  again,  that  he  might  give  an- 
other life  in  supreme  devotion  to  the  one  sublime  work 
of  preaching  "the  unsearchable  riches  of  Christ,'* 
from  the  centre  to  the  outposts  of  civilized  Ufa. 


UOLSTON  CONFEKENCE. 


473 


The  General  Minutes  giving  the  statistics  of  the 
Southern  jNIethodist  Church  for  1851,  exhihited  a 
gratifying  amount  of  progress.  There  were  then 
in  the  connectional  union  twenty  Annual  Confer- 
ences, exclusive  of  the  Pacific  Mission  Conference. 
^  The  total  of  meiiihership  amounted  to  five  hundred  • 
and  twenty-nine  thousand  three  hundred  and  ninety- 
four.  Adding  travelling  preachers,  one  thousand 
six  hundred  and  fifty-nine,  and  local  preachers,  four 
thousand  and  thirty-six,  there  was  a  grand  total  of 
five  hundred  and  thirty-five  thousand  and  eighty- 
nine,  showing  an  increase  of  fourteen  thousand 
seven  hundred  and  ninety-three  for  the  last  eccle- 
siastical year.  The  average  yearly  increase  from 
the  beginning  of  the  Southern  organization  had 
been  twelve  thousand.  At  this  period  it  appeared 
that  a  Methodist  journal,  somewhere,  had  admitted 
that  at  one  locality  the  Church  seemed  to  be  on 
the  wane.  The  intelligence  called  out  something 
like  a  genuine  Jubilate  in  the  newspapers  of  some 
neighboring  denominations,  which  amplified  the 
affair  into  a  ^enera^  decline.  The  demonstration 
was  a  trifle  premature.  The  Minutes  showed,  in- 
deed, that  Methodism  was  going  down — but  going 
down  the  right  way,  spreading  its  roots  to  support 
a  wider  spread  of  its  branches. 

In  September,  1852,  Bishop  Capers  left  home  to 
commence  his  next  tour  of  visitations  with  the  Hol- 
ston  Conference.  The  accession  of  sixteen  preach- 
ers to  the  effective  list  of  the  Switzerland" 
Conference,  made  the  eyes  of  the  good  Bishop 


474 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


sparkle.  Holston  had  already  a  representative  in 
China — the  Eev.  W.  G.  E.  Cunnyugham,  a  man  of 
most  admirable  qualifications  for  that  mission  ;  the 
Conference  at  the  present  session  nominated  an- 
other of  its  preachers  for  a  distant  mission-field, 
California  ;  and  Bishop  Capers  tad  the  satisfaction 
to  appoint  him.  The  session  was  protracted ;  yet 
he  was  able,  in  addition  to  presiding  regularly, 
to  preach  several  times,  and  to  ordain,  at  one  ser- 
vice, both  deacons  and  elders. 

Before  reaching  the  seat  of  the  Holston  Confer- 
ence, he  visited  the  Echota  Indian  Mission,  in  the 
Asheville  District.  There  is  a  remnant  of  the 
Cherokee  Indians,  about  twelve  or  fourteen  hun- 
dred  in  number,  who  were  settled  on  lands  in 
Jackson,  Macon,  and  Cherokee  counties,  IS'orth 
Carolina,  at  the  time  when  the  tribe  of  Cherokees 
were  removed  to  the  W est.  To  this  remnant  the 
Holston  Conference  has  sent  missionaries  from  the 
time  of  the  Cherokee  exodus.  When  Bishop 
Capers  visited  them,  there  were  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  Church  members,  and  three  or  four 
Indian  preachers,  among  them.  An  English  school, 
taught  by  the  Rev.  U.  Keener,  was  in  successful 
operation.  The  Bishop  spent  several  days  in  the 
Mission,  preached  to  the  Indians  once  or  twice, 
with  Charlie  Hornbuckle  as  interpreter,  and  was 
highly  gratified  at  the  improvement  which  these 
Cherokees  had  made  in  agricalture;  .and  especially 
with  their  improvement  in  all  social  and  religious 
respects.    He  felt  and  manifested  a  special  interest 


MRS.    PAUL'S    ENVELOPES.  475 

in  them,  and  opened  a  correspondence  in  respect 
to  their  affairs,  with  the  Rev.  William  Ilicks,  then 
Presiding  Elder  of  the  district. 

He  spent  Sunday,  the  17th  October,  in  Charles- 
ton, en  route  to  Fredericksburg,  the  seat  of  the 
Yirginia  Conference,  and  preached  twice  with  his 
usual  ability  and  unction,  leaving  the  next  day  in 
the  Wilmington  steamer.  At  Fredericksburg,  ten 
preachers  were  admitted  into  the  travelling  con- 
nection, and  one  readmitted.  The  Bishop  presided 
to  the  satisfaction  of  all  parties;  and  stood  up  well 
under  the  toils  of  the  session.  In  the  Conference- 
room,  in  the  social  circle,  and  in  the  pulpit,  he  was 
ready,  affable,  and  effective ;  and  left  a  fine  influ- 
ence on  the  Conference  and  community.  In  a 
letter  to  Mrs.  Capers  he  says  :  "  We  had  a  delight- 
ful Conference  at  Fredericksburg ;  one  of  the  very 
best  in  all  respects.  At  Petersburg,  I  stopped 
Saturday  and  Sunday  with  brother  and  sister  Paul, 
the  latter  having  attended  the  Conference  at  Fred- 
ericksburg. Sister  Paul  has  renewed  her  old-time 
kindness,  and  I  have  in  my  trunk,  silk  and  calico, 
and  pocket-handkerchiefs.  'I  have,'  said  she,  ^a 
quantity  of  envelopes,  and  I  want  you  to  take  a 
parcel  of  them.'  I  thanked  her,  and  took  them; 
but  in  one  of  them  I  found  twenty-five  dollars, 
directed  to  me.  This,  I  suppose,  was  in  lieu  of  a 
coat  she  had  intended  to  give  me,  and  which  I  de- 
clined, as  not  needing  one  at  present.'* 

Mrs.  Paul  must  pardon  us  for  publishing  the 


476 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


foregoing.  If  the  incident  sliows  the  admirahle 
womanly  tact  with  which  she  has  long  been  accus- 
tomed to  do  her  acts  of  kindness  to  the  preachers, 
why,  that  is  known  to  thousands,  and  she  has  found 
it  impossible  to  conceal  entirely  things  of  this  sort, 
notwithstanding  all  her  eftbrts.  The  Bishop  ac- 
cepted gratefully  the  pocket-handkerchiefs  and  the 
like;  but  when  a  coat  in  addition  must  be  re- 
ceived, his  -delicacy  prompted  him  to  decline,  lest 
he  should  seem  to  be  availing  himself,  beyond 
proper  bounds,  of  the  kind  partiality  of  his  lady 
friend.  But  wouldn't  he  accept  a  parcel  of  en- 
velopes ? — he  had  a  large  correspondence — a  fresh 
supply  of  envelopes  would  not  burden  his  portfolio. 
O  good,  easy  Bishop !  fairly  caught.  There  is 
your  new  coat,  nicely  stuffed  away  in  one  of  these 
smooth-faced  envelopes,  which  told  no  tale  at  the 
time.  Let  sister  Paul  have  it  her  own  way,  hence- 
forth. She  is  entitled  to  the  queenly  luxury  of 
doing  good. 

After  attending  the  is'orth  Carolina  Conference 
at  Louisburg,  which  closed  Il^^ovember  10,  a^nd 
spending  a  few  days  at  home  with  his  family, 
Bishop  Capers  set  out  for  the  Alabama  Confer- 
ence. This  was  held  at  Marion ;  and  on  his  way, 
he  spent  a  Sunday  at  Selma,  preaching  morning 
and  afternoon — at  the  latter  service,  to  the  blacks. 
At  this  session,  the  notable  number  of  twenty-eight 
preachers  were  admitted  into  the  travelling  con- 
nection.   The  Bishop  conducted  the  business  of 


FLORIDA    CONFERENCE.  477 


the  Conference  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  all  con- 
cerned ;  and  his  pulpit  labors  were  specially  edify- 
ing; appropriate,  and  eloquent* 

The  session  of  the  Georgia  Conference  began  in 
the  beautiful  town  of  Athens,  December  15th,  and 
closed  on  the  evening  of  the  following  Tuesday. 
By  general  admission,  it  was  considered  one  of  the 
pleasantest  ever  held  in  the  State.  A  large  amount 
of  business  was  gotten  through  with  dispatch,  and 
the  venerable  Bishop  carried  a  face  of  sunshine. 
Upwards  of  one  hundred  and  sixty  preachers  were 
stationed. 

On  the  5th  January,  1853^  Bishop  Capers  took 
the  chair,  and  opened  the  session  of  the  South 
Carolina  Conference  at  Sumterville.  This  was  also 
a  very  pleasant  Conference.  Among  other  things 
noticed  at  the  time,  there  was  a  donation  made  to 
the  superannuated  preachers'  fund,  by  Andrew 
.Wallace,  Esq.,  of  Columbia,  of  a  thousand  dollars, 
BO  conditioned  as  to  have  the  interest  paid  annually 
to  Bishop  Capers,  and  his  wife,  during  their  life-* 
time — a  touching  testimonial  to  the  worth  and 
public  services  of  the  Bishop,  on  the  part  of  one 
who  had  long  known  him. 

The  Florida  Conference  closed  the  present  round 
of  visitations.  It  was  held  in  the  town  of  Quincy, 
beginning  January  26th.  As  if  he  had  renewed 
his  youth.  Bishop  Capers  presided  in  the  Confer- 
ence, held  his  consultations  with  the  Presiding 
Elders,  preached  and  performed  the  ordination 
services  on  Sunday  morning.    When  the  afternoon 


478  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

service  was  over,  finding  that  his  friend,  Dr.  Sum- 
mers, who  had  been  appointed  to  preach  at  night, 
was  complaining  of  sore-throat,  he  insisted  upon 
taking  his  place  in  the  pulpit ;  would  listen  to  no 
demurs  on  the  Doctor's  part,  and  went  and  preached 
with  power  and  effect ;  and  closed  the  day's  sacred 
work  by  administering  the  Lord's  Supper. 

.  At  this  Conference  he  made  the  two  following 
decisions : 

"  It  has  been  desired  that  I  should  express  my 
opinion,  ex  cathedra^  with  respect  to  a  question 
which  has  recently  given  trouble  in  one  of  our 
stations  :  whether  it  is  allowable  for  a  member  of 
the  Church,  a  leader  or  steward,  to  preach  without 
license  of  the  Quarterly  Conference. 

"  The  Discipline  appropriating  to  the  Quarterly 
Conference  the  authority  to  license  proper  persons 
to  preach,  and  requiring  that  their  licenses  should 
be  renewed  yearly,  clearly  implies  that  persons  be- 
lieving it  to  be  their  duty  ought  to  apply  to  the 
Quarterly  Conference  for  license.  This  is  the 
orderly  and  proper  way  for  any  one  to  become  a 
Methodist  preacher.  But  the  present  question 
looks  to  something  short  of  this  ;  as  in  case  the  per- 
son concerned,  without  believing  himself  to  be 
called  to  preach,  as  a  profession,  should  think  it 
his  duty  sometimes,  in  the  absence  of  a  preacher, 
to  hold  religious  services  with  his  neighbors  and 
brethren,  as  a  preacher  might  do.  The  question  is, 
whether  this  ought  to  be  allowed  ?  I  know  nothing 
against  it  if  the  person  be  of  fair  Christian  char- 


EPISCOPAL  DECISIONS. 


479 


acter,  his  teacliing  accord  to  sound  words,  and  lie 
competent  to  teach.  On  the  other  hand,  I  should 
commend  such  a  person  for  his  lahor  of  love,  and 
encourage  him  to  do  all  the  good  he  could.  There 
can  he  no  imposition  in  it,  nor  a  bad  example,  as 
if  one  who  might  he  a  vagrant  should  assume  to  be 
a  preacher.  JS'or  do  I  judge  that  at  the  present 
time,  and  in  this  Conference  District,  there  is  any 
occasion  to  set  a  guard  on  the  zeal  of  intelligent 
and  worthy  members  of  our  Church,  as  if , there 
were  danger  of  their  encroaching  on  the  ministry; 
I  would  rather  say,  with  Moses,  Would  that  all  the 
Lord's  people  were  prophets  ! 

"W.  Capers. 

"CoNFEKENCE  AT  QuiNCY,  Jan.  29,  1853. 

"  The  following  questions  have  been  put,  in  Con- 
ference, for  my  decision  from  the  chair : 

"  1.  Has  a  preacher  in  charge  a  right  to  withhold  a  certificate  of 
membership,  simply  because  the  applicant  desires  to  attach  himself 
to  a  society  more  remote  from  his  place  of  residence  than  the  one 
from  which  he  desires  to  be  dismissed  ? 

"  2.  What  relation  does  a  person  sustain  to  the  Church  who  holds 
in  his  possession  a  certificate  of  membership  ?  If  regarded  as  a 
member,  to  what  society  is  he  accountable  ? 

"  3.  When  a  member  has  been  found  guilty  of  gross  immoralities, 
can  he  upon  manifesting  penitence  and  promising  reformation  be  re- 
tained in  full  connection  in  the  Church  ? 

"To  the  first  of  these  questions  I  answer  in  the 
negative.  And  I  add,  that  the  certificate  of  mem- 
bership is  due  independently  of  any  suspicion  or 
aversion  of  the  preacher,  on .  the  naked  ground  of 


480 


LITE    OF    WILLIAM    CAPE  11 S. 


freedom  on  the  part  of  the  a^Dplicant  from  any 
Church  censure,  or  objections  formally  made  in- 
volving censure.  A  certificate  that  one  has  been 
an  acceptable  member  at  any  place,  intends  no 
more  than  membership  unimpeached,  at  that  jjlace. 
But  I  have  known  one  to  ask  in  writing  for  a  cer- 
tificate, in  such  language  as  should  of  itself  be 
sufficient  to  subject  the  applicant  to  censure.  In 
which  case  the  preacher  should  instantly  go  to  the 
ofiending  brother,  and  seek  to  correct  the  wrong, 
as  the  Discipline  requires ;  or,  in  default  of  this,  he 
having  virtually  waived  the  offence  by  his- own  in- 
difference, might  not  make  it  a  reason  for  with- 
holding a  certificate. 

"  To  the  second  question,  I  answer,  that  the  per- 
son holding  a  certificate  of  membership  is  a  member 
of  the  Church  by  virtue  of  that  certificate,  for  such 
length  of  time  as  the  circumstances  of  the  case  and 
the  analogy  of  our  economy  may  warrant.  And 
during  this  time,  (that  is,  while  the  certificate  avails 
him  for  membership,  and  before  it  has  been  pre- 
sented elsewhere,)  he  is  amenable  to  the  society  to 
which  he  belonged  at  the  time  it  w^as  given  him. 
If  he  is.  a  member  at  all,  he  must  be  amenable 
somewhere,  and  he  can  be  amenable  nowhere 
else. 

"To  the  third  question,  I  answer  in  the  negative. 
It  was  a  frequent  practice  with  our  fathers,  in  cases 
w^here  penitence  was  strongly  marked,  to  jjut  the 
offender  back  on  trial  for  six  months  ;  placing  him 
in  relation  to  the  Church  as  if  he  were  just  begin- 


EPISCOPAL   DECISIONS.  461. 

nin'g.  But  it  requires  great  strictness  and  extreme 
caution  to  make  this  practice  safe  or  expedient. 
Penitence  is  an  easy  price  for  pardon,  or  for  even  a 
mitigation  of  punishment;  and  probably  it  has 
been  for  this  reason  that  the  practice  has  been  dis- 
continued. The  immoral  person  had  better  be  ex- 
pelled ;  and  if  he  be  truly  penitent  for  his  sin,  he 
will  make  it  appear,  and  return  to  the  Church  by 
.joining  on  trial,  as  at  first.  There  has  been  more 
than  one  Judah,  to  whom  the  shame  has  been  more 
abhorrent  than  the  guilt  of  a  transgression. 

"W.  Capers. 

"GoNFEEENOE  AT  QuiNCT,  Jan.  31,  1853." 


16 


482 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Eighth  tour  of  Episcopal  visitations — Failing  health — General  Con* 
ference  at  Columbus,  Georgia — Last  tour — Illness  and  death. 

After  a  few  months  of  relaxation  at  home, 
Bishop  Capers,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  set  out  to 
attend  the  Western  Virginia  Conference,  held  at 
Clarksburg,  August  24th.  Thence  he  went  to 
Louisville,  Kentucky,  where  a  meeting  of  the 
Bishops  and  Missionary  Board  was  held,  September 
7th.  Bishop  Soule  had  not  long  before  returned 
from  California.  The  account  which  he  gave  of 
his  visit  to  the  Pacific  Conference  was  deeply  in- 
teresting. In  reference  to  the  missionary  work  in 
general.  Bishop  Soule  said,  "  The  Methodist  Episco- 
pal Church,  South,  ought  to  raise  five  hundred 
thousand  dollars  a  year  for  missions  :  they  are  able 
to  do  it:  it  would  he  a  great  blessing  to  the  donors.'" 

Prom  Louisville  Bishop  Capers  went  to  Ver- 
sailles, where  he  held  the  Kentucky  Conference, 
commencing  September  14th.  Then  followed  the 
Louisville  Conference  at  Owensburg,  Kentucky, 
which  closed  its  session  October  4th;  the  Ten- 
nessee Conference  at  Franklin,  and  the  Mississippi 


EPISCOPAL    VISITATIONS.     ,  483 

Conference  at  Canton,  commencing  I^ovember  23df 
By  this  time  the  Bishop's  health  began  to  fail  per-, 
ceptibly,  so  that  lie  was  not  able  to  attend  the  session 
of  the  Louisiana  Conference,  the  last  of  his  present 
tour  of  visitations.  The  company  of  Mrs.  Capers 
with  him  was  of  great  service  and  satisfactioil. 

At  home  once  more,  the  quiet  and  relief  from 
public  cares  and  responsibilities  brought  his  health 
up  again  to  a  tolerably  comfortable  state.  As  the 
spring  opened,  his  passion  for  gardening  had  full 
scope ;  and  the  exercise  in  the  open  air  and  sun- 
shine, which  he  took  in  laying  off  and  improving 
the  grounds  of  his  up-country  residence,  was  evi- 
dently beneficial.  He  was  able  to  attend  the  Gen- 
eral Conference  in  May,  though  he  excused  him- 
self, on  account  of  the  feebleness  of  his  voice,  from 
occupying  the  President's  chair  during  almost  the 
whole  session.  In  the  plan  of  Episcopal  visitations, 
there  were  allotted  him,  in  view  of  the  uncertainties 
of  his  health,  only  the  Georgia  and  Florida  Confer- 
ences for  the  ensuing  winter,  'and  a  visit  to  the 
negro  missions  in  South  Carolina  for  the  spring 
of  1855. 

In  ISTovember  he  passed  several  days  at  Colum- 
bia, during  the  session  of  the  South  Carolina  Con- 
ference, under  the  Presidency  of  Bishop  Pierce. 
He  was  able  to  preach  once  on  Sunday.  A  serene 
cheerfulness  characterized  all  his  social  intercourse 
with  the  brethren  with  whom  he  had  formerly  been 
so  closely  associated,  and  before  whom  he  had  ever 
held  up  a  bright  example  of  devotion  to  the  cause 


484  LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

of  the  itinerant  ministry.  They  saw  him  now  for 
the  last  time  among  them  ! 

On  the  13th  December  he  opened  the  session  of 
the  Georgia  Conference,  at  Atlanta.  Dr.  Myers 
said  of  his  Sunday's  sermon,  that  he  had  rarely 
ever  heard  him  preach  better:  his  discourse  was 
pervaded  with  that  holy  unction  which  carried  it  to 
the  heart.  Although  the  labor  of  presiding  at  so 
large  a  body  as  the  Georgia  Conference  was  of 
course  severe,  yet  the  Bishop  went  through  with  an 
energy  which  surprised  his  friends.  Having  to 
leave  Atlanta  before  day,  at  the  close  of  this  session, 
and  the  weather  being  very  cold^  he  suffered  some- 
what from  bronchial  irritation ;  but  so  far  recovered 
as  to  be  able  to  preside  at  the  Florida  Conference 
at  Madison,  early  in  January,  with  satisfaction. 
This  Conference  closed  his  public  labors  on  earth. 

On  his  return  homeward  from  Florida,  he  visited 
Charleston.  His  friend,  the  Eev.  Dr.  Myers,  who 
enjoyed  the  satisfaction  of  passing  with  him  the 
last  evening  of  his  stay,  at  the  residence  of  his  son, 
Major  F.  W.  Capers,  describes  the  interview  in  the 
following  words :  "  Much  of  the  evening  was 
spent  in  conversation  respecting  his  last  Conference. 
He  expressed  the  liveliest  interest  in  the  Church  in 
Florida,  and  earnest  desire  for  its  prosperity, 
believing,  as  he  said,  that  the  importance  of  this 
section,  and  its  wants  and  worth,  were  underrated 
by  the  preachers  generally.  He  expressed  some 
disappointment  at  not  having  received,  from  an 
officer  of  the  Conference,  some  information  necessary 


THE    FINAL  ATTACK. 


485 


to-  the  completion  of  the  Conference  minutes  for 
publication,  as  he  wished,  as  always  heretofore,  to 
forward  these  minutes  to  the  publishers  as  soon  as 
he"  reached  home.  "When  he  was  told  that  the  in- 
formation desired  had  reached  the  office  of  the 
Southern  Christian  Advocate  that  afternoon,  and 
could  be  obtained  from  the  next  week's  paper,  he 
remained :  ^  But,  brother,  it  may  be  too  late.'  And 
it  was  ;  for  hefore  he  could  have  received  it,  he  was 
upon  his  death-bed.  He  had  met  some  members 
of  his  family  whom  he  did  not  expect  to  see  in 
Charleston,  and  he  remarked  it  with  special  satis-  ' 
faction,  saying  that  he  rarely  saw  so  many  of  his 
children  together,  there  being  six  of  the  ten 
present.  They  parted  that  night  to  meet  next  on 
the  resurrection  morn." 

Taking  the  railroad  to  Columbia  on  the  next 
morning,  he  spent  the  night  of  January  23d  with 
his  old  friend,  the  Rev.  Nicholas  Talley,  and 
reached  home  the  next  day.  On  the  following  day, 
January  25th,  he  completed  his  sixty-fifth  year, 
and  at  midnight  the  final  attack  came.  His  two 
daughters  were  awakened  by  their  mother  calling 
to  them  in  great  alarm ;  and  hastening  to  the 
Bishop's  room,  they  found  him  sitting  up,  but 
sufiering  great  agony.  "  Make  my  blood  circulate, ' ' 
he  said ;  and  warm  flannels,  friction,  and  mustard 
were  applied  in  vain.  An  icy  coldness  had  seized 
the  extremities.  Seeing  alarm  depicted  in  the 
countenances  of  those  around  him,  he  said :  "I  am 


486  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


already  cold ;  and  now,  my  precious  children,  give 
me  up  to  God.  0  that  more  of  you  were  here ! 
but  I  bless  God  that  I  have  so  lately  seen  you  all." 
Then  turning  to  his  daughter  Mary,  he  said:  "I 
want  you  to  finish  my  minutes  to-morrow,  and 
send  them  off."  The  preparation  of  those  minutes 
was  the  last  official  act  of  his  life  ;  and  it  is  touching 
to  observe  how  his  habits  of  promptness,  punctuality, 
and  order  were  manifested  at  a  crisis  so  solemn. 
^'  Duty  was  his  law  in  life — his  watchword  at  the 
gates  of  death."  A  physician  was  soon  with  him, 
and  succeeded  during  the  next  paroxysm  of  pain 
in  producing  nausea,  and  temporary  relief,  and  he 
was  removed  to  his  bed.  He  then  asked  the  hour ; 
and  when  the  information  was  given,  he  said : 
"  What,  only  three  hours  since  I  have  been  suffer- 
ing such  torture  !  Only  three  hours  !  What,  then, 
must  be  the  voice  of  the  bird  that  cries,  '  Eternity ! 
eternity?'  Three  hours  have  taken  away  all  hut 
my  religion 

During  the  next  day  he  suffered  much,  but  was 
constantly  engaged  in  prayer — especially  for  his 
family.  On  Sunday  he  was  better,  and  sat  up 
nearly  all  day,  and  at  night  insisted  that  his  children 
should  not  sit  up  with  him.  But  his  son-in-law, 
the  Rev.  S.  B.  Jones,  who  had  come  from  his  cir- 
cuit, and  Mrs.  Capers,  remained  with  him  until 
after  midnight.  On  Monday  morning  at  daylight 
Mr.  Jones  approached  his  bedside,  saying,  "How 
do  you  feel  this  morning,  father?"    His  answer 


THE  DEATH-SCENE. 


487 


was,  "I  feel  decidedly  better,  and  would  like  to 
get  up,  that  your  mother  may  be  able  to  sleep.'! 
Mr.  Jones  then  said :  "  The  doctor  wishes  you  to 
take  a  small  dose  of  castor  oil."  "Well,"  said  he, 
"give  it  to  me  in  a  table-spoon,  for  I  have  no 
,  taste."  Being  assisted  to  raise  himself,  he  took 
the  spoon,  drank  the  oil,  then  took  a  tumbler  of 
water  and  rinsed  his  mouth  over  a  basin.  Mrs. 
Capers  turned  from  the  bed  to  put  aside  the  tum- 
bler and  basin,  and  in  a  moment  he  breathed  his 
last.  His  countenance  expressed  the  utmost  com- 
^  posure ;  no  single  sigh  or  convulsive  movement 
marked  the  approach  of  death.  Gently  as  dies  the 
latest  whisper  of  summer  winds,  his  life  passed 
away.  Thus  quickly  had  disease  of  the  heart  done 
its  fatal  office.  Mrs.  Capers  could  not  believe  that 
this  was  death.  She  thought  it  must  be  only  a 
fainting  fit,  and  that  she  should  again  see  the  light 
of  those  dear  eyes,  and  once  more  hear  the  voice 
of  her  beloved  husband.  She  applied  all  the  restora- 
tives within  reach;  and  continued  for  nearly  an 
hour  the  hopeless  endeavor  to  recover  him  to  con- 
sciousness. But  the  pleadings  of  affection  fell  on 
"the  cold,  dull  ear  of  death;"  the  immortal  spirit 
had  joined  the  innumerable  company  before  the 
throne. 

As  soon  as  the  intelligence  of  the  death  of  Dr. 
Capers  was  received  at  Columbia,  a  meeting  of  the 
ministers  and  members  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church  was  held,  and  resolutions  appropriate  to  the 


488  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

solemn  event  were  passed,  together  with  an  earnest 
request  to  the  family  of  the  deceased  Bishop,  that 
his  remains  should  be  removed  to  that  city  for  in- 
terment; to  which  the  consent  of  the  family  was 
given.  In  Charleston,  also,  meetings  were  held  in 
the  several  Methodist  churches,  and  resolutions  of 
affectionate  respect  for  the  memory  of  the  deceased, 
and  of  condolence  with  his  family,  were  adopted,  ac- 
companied with  a  request  similar  to  that  of  the 
Methodist  community  in  Columbia,  it  being  their 
wish  that  the  remains  of  the  Bishop  should  lie 
beneath  the  altar  of  Bethel  Church. 

On  the  2d  of  February,  the  corpse,  accompanied 
with  a  funeral  procession,  was  taken  to  the  railroad 
depot  at  Anderson  ;  at  Cokesbury  the  funeral  train 
was  joined  by  a  committee  appointed  to  represent 
the  Church  there  on  the  solemn  occasion ;  and  at 
Columbia,  on  the  arrival  of  the  cars  at  half-past 
four  o'clock  P.  M.,  a  committee  of  ministers  and 
laymen  received  the  body,  and  conveyed  it  to  the 
residence  of  the  Eev.  Mcholas  Talley.  On  the 
next  day,  at  ten  o'clock  A.  M.,  it  was  taken  to  the 
Washington  Street  Church,  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Shand 
and  Wigfall,  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church, 
the  Rev.  Drs.  Leland  and  Howe  and  Prazer,  of  the 
Presbyterian  Church,  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Boyce  and 
Curtis,  of  the  Baptist  Church,  and  the  Rev.  Messrs. 
Crook,  Gamewell,  and  Townsend,  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  acting  as  pall-beg-rers.  The 
Ber\ice  at  the  church  was  conducted  by  the  Rev. 


MONUMENTAL    INSCRIPTIONS.  489 

Whiteford  Smith,  D.  D.,  who  preached  a  sermon 
highly  appropriate  to  the  occasion,  from  Acts  xiii. 
36  :  "  For  David,  after  he  had  served  his  own  gene- 
ration by  the  will  of  God,  fell  on  sleep."  After  the 
last  hymn,  and  a  final  look  at  the  calm,  beautiful 
face  of  the  dead  by  weeping  friends,  the  body 
was  removed  to  the  grave  in  the  rear  of  the  church, 
where  the  burial  service  was  .read  by  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Talley,  and  the  coffin  was  lowered  to  its  place, 
dust  to  dust,  and  ashes  to  ashes,  until  the  resurrec- 
tion at  the  last  day. 

The  death  of  Bishop  Capers  made  a  profound 
impression  throughout  the  Southern  Methodist 
Church,  in  all  parts  of  which  he  was  personally 
known  and  respected.  Church  meetings  and 
Quarterly  Conferences,  by  scores,  recognized  the 
loss  sustained  by  the  Connection,  and  adopted 
resolutions  of  sympathy  and  condolence  with  the 
bereaved  family.  Many  funeral  sermons  were 
preached,  as  tributes  to  his  memory ;  and  of  these, 
one  by  Bishop  Pierce  at  ITashville,  and  another  by 
Dr.  Cross  at  Charleston,  were  published:  both  of 
them  beautiful  and  eloquent  memorials  of  the 
worth  of  the  deceased  Bishop. 

Over  his  grave  is  an  oblong  structure  of  gran- 
ite covered  by  a  marble  slab,  in  the  centre  of 
which  rests  a  pedestal  supporting  an  obelisk  of 
Italian  marble.  This  bears  the  following  inscrip- 
tions. 


21* 


490 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


On  the  west  side : 

William  Capers, 
Born  in 
St.  Thomas'  Parish, 
South  Carolina, 
On  the  26th  Jan.,  1790, 
And  died  in  Anderson, 

South  Carolina, 
On  the  29th  Jan.,  1855. 

On  the  south  side : 

One 
Of  the 
Bishops  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South.  » 

On  the  east  side : 

The  Founder 
Of  Missions 
To  the  Slaves  in 
South  Carolina. 

On  the  north  side  : 

Erected 
To  the 
Memory  of 
The  Deceased, 

By  the 
South  Carolina 
Conference. 


MONUMENTAL   INSCRIPTIONS.  491 


In  the  Washington  Street  Church,  a  tahlet  of 
white  marble  bears  the  following  inscription : 

The  Eev.  "William  Capers,  D.D. 
This  Monument 
Is  erected  by  the  Congregation  of  this  Church 
In  memory  of 
The  Eev.  "William  Capers,  D.D., 
One  of  the  Bishops  of 
The  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South, 
Who  was  born  in  St.  Thomas'  Parish,  S.  C, 
January  26th,  1790, 
And  died  near  Anderson  C.  H.,  S.  C, 
January  29th,  1855, 
Having  served  his  own  generation  by  the 
Will  of  God,  in  the  Christian  Ministry, 
Forty-six  years. 
His  mortal  remains  repose  near  this  church, 
The  corner-stone  of  which  he  laid 
During  his  ministry  in  this  town 
In  1831. 
He  was  the  Founder  of  the 
Missions  to  the  slaves 
On  the  plantations  of  the  Southern  States. 

To  shining  abilities 
Which  rendered  him  universally  popular 
As  a  Preacher, 
He  united  great  simplicity  and 
Purity  of  character. 
"  The  righteous  shall  be  in  everlasting 
Remembrance.", 


492 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


CHAPTEE  XX. 

The  personnel  of  Bishop  Capers — Intellectual  character — Conversa- 
tional powers — Religious  experience — Style  of  Preaching — The- 
ology of  the  John  Wesley  school  —  Administrative  capacity — 
Family  feelings — Belief  in  a  special  Providence — Disinterested- 
ness— Results  of  his  ministry. 

Bishop  Capers  was  of  medium  height,  well 
formed,  and  a  little  inclined  to  corpulency  in  the 
advance  of  life.  At  middle  age  his  hair,  which 
was  thin,  began  to  fall  off,  and  left  him  bald.  This, 
however,  only  made  his  appearance  more  touch- 
ingly  venerable,  during  the  last  ten  years  of  his 
life.  His  face  was  fine,  and  its  expression  that  of 
blended  intelligence  and  amiability.  His  eye  was 
black  and  lustrous ;  it  indicated  great  vivacity  of 
temperament;  and  seemed  gifted  with  the  power 
of  reading  human  character  at  a  glance.  His 
hands  were  small,  with  the  fingers  tapering,  and 
the  nails  closely  pared.  The  teeth  w^ere  perfect; 
the  lips  thin,  and  indicating  decision ;  the  bust 
round  and  full ;  and  the  voice  clear  in  its  ring,  and 
melodious  as  a  chime  of  bells.  Thus  nature  had 
given  him  the  necessary  jphjsique  for  an  orator. 

His  manners  were  those  of  an  accomplished 


CHARACTER   OF   BISHOP   CAPERS.  493 

gentleman.  The  ease  and  affability,  the  finist  and 
freedom  from  professional  crotchets,  which  char- 
acterized his  deportment,  arose  from  his  native 
kindness  of  heart,  his  careful  early  training, .  and 
the  large  knowledge  of  the  world  to  which  his 
calling  had  naturally  led. 

Dignity  of  person,  and  the  various  elements 
which  make  up  weight  of  character,  were  added  to 
an  intellect  distinguished  for  its  keenness,  vigor, 
and  readiness.  His  mind  was  well  balanced,  prac- 
tical, and  solid;  awake  to  the  sentiment  of  the 
beautiful ;  and  fitted  by  culture  to  appreciate  and 
enjoy  this  sentiment  in  nature  and  in  man.  Deli- 
cacy, however,  rather  than  majesty,  fancy  more 
than  imagination,  prevailed  in  his  intellectual  con- 
stitution. 

His  powers  of  conversation  were  remarkably 
£ne.  He  loved  to  talk;  and  in  talking  shone 
without  effort.  A  genial  spirit  of  humor,  racy 
without  coarseness ;  an  unborrowed  fund  of  anec- 
dote ;  a  vein  of  deep  reflection ;  all  ready  to  be 
laid  under  contribution  for  the  instruction  and 
entertainment  of  those  who  listened,  made  his 
society  very  charming.  The  exquisite  symmetry 
and  versatility  of  the  man  came  out  here,  as  well 
as  in  every  other  department  of  his  well-balanced 
character. 

Jlis  experience  of  Divine  things  was  genuine  and 
deep.  Christianity,  with  him,  was  no  mere  theory, 
to  be  subjected  to  scientific  and  critical  research, 
to  be  matter  of  speculation,  and  system,  and  con- 


494  LIFE    OF    WILLIABI  CAPERS. 

fined  mainly  to  tlie  intellect ;  nor  was  it  a  church 
formalism,  standing  in  a  goodly  round  of  ritual 
observances.  Least  of  all  was  it  .a  poetic  sentiment- 
alism,  the  mere  play-impulse  of  the  susceptibility 
to  the  beautiful  and  the  good.  On  the  contrary,  it 
was  a  divine  life  to  his  soul,  a  heavenly  renewal  of 
the  spirit  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  well 
as  a  conscious  acceptance  with  God,  through  the 
atoning  sacrifice  of  the  Divine'  Son.  It  was  com- 
munion with  the  Father  of  spirits,  and  a  constant 
realization  of  the  powers  of  the  world  to  come, 
along  with  the  irrevocable  commitment  of  intellect, 
emotion,  and  will  to  eternal  rectitude.  In  all  the 
manifold  conditions  of  social  life,  he  maintained 
the  delicacy  and  dignity  of  a  lofty  virtue  never 
subjected  to  suspicion,  never  stained  by  the  slightest 
shade  of  moral  laxity. 

His  piety  was  nurtured  by  the  daily  habit  of 
private  prayer.  Here  he  found  the  strength  and 
realized  the  vigor  of  the  religious  principle.  His 
communion  with  God  was  ever  through  the  medi- 
ation of  Christ.  His  way  to  th.e  holiest  was  ever 
by  the  blood  of  Jesus  ;  his  boldness  of  access, 
through  the  unchangeable  priesthood ;  his  closet  a 
precinct  of  Calvary — a  cleft  of  the  sacrificial  hill. 
He  was  wont  to  measure  the  extent  of  all  gracious 
attainments  in  the  soul  of  a  Christian,  very  much 
by  the  extent  to  which  personal,  private  prayer  h^s 
the  force  of  a  vital  principle — the  fixedness  of  a 
habit.  And  if  he  laid  this  down  in  his  preaching, 
as  a  test  of  religious  character  and  attainment,  his 


PREACHING    OF    BISHOP    CAPERS.  495 

own  life  was  strictly  conformed  to  the  standard. 
To  tins  habit  of  private  prayer  may  be  traced  the 
prevailing  spirituality,  humility,  and  tenderness 
which  imbued  his  ministiy.  Equipped  anU  armed 
with  the  panoply  of  the  pulpit  warrior — "  cincture 
and  breastplate,  and  greave  and  buckler,  and 
helmet  and  sword,"  his^  efficiency,  after  all,  came 
as  the  result  of  his  "praying  always  with  all  prayer 
and  supplication  in  th^  Spirit." 

His  public  prayers  bore  the  impress  of  the  pri- 
vate devotional  fervor.  They  were  eminently 
spiritual,  comprehensive,  and  edifying:  as  far  re- 
moved from  any  affected  magniloquence  of  words 
as  from  stiff  formality  or  solemn  dulness.  Here, 
too,  it  was  observable  how  the  expiation  of  the 
cross  formed  the  great  plea,  was  urged  as  the  sole 
reason  for  thebestowment  of  the  Divine  mercy  and 
grace.  This  gave  scope  and  compass  to  his  peti- 
tions; winged  the  words  of  intercession ;  warmed 
the  holy  fervor  of  thanksgiving ;  and  sent  up  his 
voice  to  heaven  in  the  accjamation  of  adoring 
praise — "Worthy  is  the  Lamb." 

His-  preaching  was-  always  and  strictly  extempo- 
raneous, as  distinguished  from  manuscript  reading, 
and  memoriter  preparation.  He  never  used  notes 
of  any  kind ;  and  probably  never,  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  ministry,  drew  up  a  half-dozen  out- 
lines. It  by  no  means  follows  from  this,  that  he 
did  not  make  his  discourses  matter  of  deep  and 
concentrated  reflection,  before  their  delivery.  This 
he  unquestionably  did.    But  his  preparation  con- 


496 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


cerned  itself  principally  with  the  substance,  very 
remotely  with  the  form,  probably  never  with  the 
mere  verbiage  of  the  sermon.  His  ordinary  prac- 
tice discarded  divisions  and  subdivisions  altogether. 
His  method  of  treatment  was  peculiarly  own; 
elaborated  from  some  salient  point  in  the  subject  ; 
bound  into  unity  by  the  subtile  affinities  of  thought 
developing  thought ;  and  leaving  fresh  and  distinct 
upon  the  mind  of  the  listener  the  impression  of 
some  leading  truth  or  duty.  A  very  special  fluency 
in  utterance,  the  intuitive  perception  of  the  right 
words,  ease  of  movement,  refinement  and  elegance 
of  manner,  and  a  chaste  and  finished  delivery, 
characterized  his  preaching.  Occasionally  he  fell 
below  his  usual  level  of  vigorous  thought;  but 
even  then,  the  commonplaces  of  the  pulpit,  delivered 
by  his  eloquent  voice,  charmed  the  popular  ear. 
Sometimes  he  rose  above  that  level,  and  then  the 
intellectualist  was  struck  with  the  freshness  and 
affluence  of  his  ideas,  with  the  force  which  vitalized 
his  conceptions.  In  his  ordinary  preaching,  a  flash 
of  unexpected  light  would  frequently  be  thrown 
upon  some  important  point  in  the  discussion ;  the 
latent  power  or  beauty  of  a  word  would  be  brought 
out;  and  you  would  be  reminded  of  the  saying  of 
one  of  the  old  writers:  "I  will  honor  sacred  elo- 
quence in  her  plain  trim ;  but  I  wish  to  meet  her 
in  her  graceful  jewels  ;  not  that  they  give  addition 
to  her  goodness,  but  that  she  is  more  persuasive  in 
working  on  the  soul  she  meets  with."  His  ministry 
was  no  mere  function  for  doling  out  crumbs  and 


jpreaciiing  of  bishop  capers.  49T 

milk  for  babes ;  it  furnished  the  instruction  and 
presented  the  means  and  motives  by  which  Christ- 
ian men  could  be  strengthened,  advanced,  and  ma- 
tured in  holiness,  and  fitted  for  the  duties  and  ex- 
igences of  life.  The  well-understood  word  unction^ 
describes  the  prevailing  cast  of  his  preaching  during 
the  last  decade  of  his  ministry.  It  is  the  vital 
warmth  from  heaven,  the  anointing  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  producing  a  tenderness  which  yearns  over 
the  souls  of  men,  a  gush  and  flow  of  sympathy, 
throbbing  at  the  preacher's  heart,  and  welling  from 
eye  and  tone,  and  coming  fast  and  faster  in  irre- 
pressible desire  for  the  salvation  of  souls  for  whom 
Christ  died. 

It  need  scarcely  be  added,  that  Bishop  Capers 
was,  in  his  theological  opinions,  thoroughly  Armin- 
ian,  using  that  word  in  the  sense  of  the  John 
"Wesley  school.  This  by  no  means  interfered  with 
the  play  of  a  truly  catholic  spirit  on  his  part.  He 
felt  how  many  ties  of  common  sentiment  unite 
those  who  ''hold  the  Head."  And  he  was  ever 
ready  to  bid  God-speed  to  all  who  sincerely  labor 
to  spread  Christ's  kingdom  among  men.  While, 
therefore,  his  preaching  was  never  controversial, 
at  the  same  time  it  embodied  and  kept  constantly 
in  view  those  great  elements  of  gospel  truth  which 
are  embraced  by  the  Church  to  which  he  was 
attached.  To  these  he  gave  the  cordial  and  full 
assent  of  his  mind.  He  gave  utterance  to  what  he 
considered  no  doubtful  speculations  when  he  de- 
clared the  freeness  and  fulness  of  Christ's  atoning 


498  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM    CAP  EES. 

sacrifice ;  a  general  redemption ;  the  free  agency 
and  moral  accountability  of  man,  and  tlie  sincere 
ojffer,  to  all,  of  grace  in  the  gospel  proclamation. 
He  held  the  essentially  simple  and  grand  Method- 
istic  point  of  view:  justification  by  faith  alone,  to 
all  who  feel  their  guilt  and  danger ;  faith,  a  per- 
sonal trust  in  Christ,  as  a  sacrifice  and  a  Saviour ; 
the  promise  of  God,  sufficiently  free  to  warrant  an 
application  to  Christ  for  present  salvation;  the 
witness  of  pardon  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  the  com- 
mon privilege  of  believers ;  and  this  comforting 
assurance  maintained  by  the  lively  exercise  of  the 
same  faith  which  justifies  the  soul.  These  were 
the  doctrinal  rudiments  which  the  preaching  of 
Dr.  Capers  illustrated  and  expanded  in  ample 
variety,  richness,  and  beauty.  An  Evangelist, 
^vith  a  commission  as  wide  as  half  a  continent, 
our  good  Bishop  everywhere  proclaimed  this 
gospel. 

His  reverence  for  revealed  truth  was  sincere  and 
profound.  The  speculative  faculty  in  his  mental 
constitution  was  held  in  unquestioning  submis- 
sion to  the  "  mind  of  the  Spirit"  as  presented  in  the 
book  of  God.  Where  the  heavenly  illumination 
stopped,  he  stopped.  He  felt  no  wish  to  overstep 
the  limits  which  separate  the  known  from  the  un- 
known. That  Christianity  was  from  heaven  he 
had  had  the  most  irrefragable  of  proofs :  he  had 
tried  it,  and  found  it  Divine.  The  great  substance 
and  body  of  truth  revealed  in  Holy  Scripture  was 
clearly  perceived  and  firmly  embraced,  and  fur- 


PREACHING   OF   BISHOP   CAPERS.  499 

nislied  him  the  largest  materials  for  his  work  as  a 
preacher.  The  person  and  character  and  life  of 
Jesus — what  an  inexhaustible  mine  did  he  find 
there  !  With  what  delight  was  he  accustomed  to 
dwell  upon  the  scenes  and  events  of  the  evangelic 
narrative  !  What  frequent  and  forcible  lessons  were 
furnished  him  in  the  parables  of  our  Lord !  Sub- 
jects of  this  kind,  under  his  masterly  handling, 
were,  indeed,  many-sided,  and  fraught  with  peren- 
nial interest.  One  in  the  habit  of  hearing  him 
often,  was  apt  to  be  struck  with  the  predominance 
of  the  experimental  and  practical  over  the  imagin- 
ative, in  his  preaching.  Among  the  themes  of  the 
pulpit,  there  are  some  which  belong  to  the  loftiest 
walks  of  human  thought  in  the  region  of  the  trans- 
cendental. An  ineffable  grandeur  invests  them. 
Their  innate  majesty  kindles  the  imagination. 
Skilfully  presented,  they  touch  the  soul  with 
deepest  awe  and  admiration.  The  human  spirit 
stands  uncovered  in  the  presence  of  a  glory  so 
dread  and  supernal.  But  the  class  of  susceptibili- 
ties meant  to  be  chiefly  affected  by  the  gospel,  lies 
in  another  direction.  Man's  great  business  with 
the  gospel  is  to  find  a  Saviour  there.  The  main 
questions  every  sermon  should  propose  to  answer 
are.  How  may  sin  be  pardoned  ?  how  may  its  power 
be  broken,  its  pollution  removed  ?  how  may  the  new 
obedience  which  springs  from  loyal  love  to  God  in 
Christ  be  achieved?  how  paay  the  principle  of 
holiness  be  strengthened  and  rendered  dominant 
in  the  soul?    Questions  like  these  are  of  tho 


500  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


deepest  import  to  the  soul  awake  to  its  real  moral 
condition,  its  tremendous  destiny  in  the  life  to 
come.  The  solemn  function  and  office  of  Christ- 
ian preaching  was  ordained  to  meet  these.  And 
w^hatever  splendor  of  native  endowment,  whatever 
breadth  of  learning,  or  quickness  of  insight,  or 
power  of  dramatic  representation  the  preacher  may 
possess,  all  of  real  vitality  and  significance  which 
belongs  to  these  qualities  of  mind  is  found  in  their 
concentration  upon  the  grand  simplicities  of  the 
gospel ;  in  their  being  made  tributary  to  one 
sublime  end,  the  salvation  of  men  for  whom  the 
Son  of  God  became  incarnate  and  died  upon  the 
cross. 

In  administrative  ability  in  the  episcopal  office, 
Bishop  Capers  was  not  remarkable,  though  he 
held  a  respectable  rank  with  colleagues  wlio  are 
j  ustly  regarded  as  eminent  in  this  department  of 
ecclesiastical  service.  He  never  made  parliamentary 
rules  matter  of  special  study,  and  was  inclined,  in 
the  early  part  of  his  administration,  rather  to  ignore 
them  in  favor  of  primitive  usage,  when  he  presided 
in  an  Annual  Conference.  A  larger  experience 
corrected  this  view;  and  his  second  quadrennial 
term  showed  a  constantly  growing  improvement. 
His  general  course  was  marked  with  dignity  and 
courtesy ;  and  if  at  any  time  he  became  for  a  mo- 
ment fretful,  it  might  be  set  down  to  the  effect  of 
bad  health  on  a  tem.perament  peculiarly  nervous. 
His  addresses  to  candidates  for  membership  in  the 
Conferences,  and  at  the  reading  out  of  the  appoint- 


EPISCOPAL' AD  MINISTRATION. 


501 


ments,  were  always  solemn  and  appropriate:  in 
many  instances,  highly  felicitous.  In  the  station- 
ing-room  he  always  sought  and  was  open  to  the 
judgment  and  counsel  of  the  Presiding  Elders; 
never  exhibiting  any  consciousness  of  superior 
sagacity  —  least  of  all  any  exercise  of  arbitrary 
power;  but,  earnestly  imploring  the  Divine  guid- 
ance, and  availing  himself  of  the  best  lights  access- 
ible, he  discharged  the  eminently  delicate  duty  of 
making  out  the  appointments.  "VYhile  presiding 
at  one  of  the  sessions  of  the  Georgia  Conference, 
an  embarrassment  arose  in  the  stationing-room,  in 
regard  to  the  appointment  of  one  of  the  preachers. 
Things  were  left  at  a  dead-lock,  when  the  Presiding 
Elders  retired.  The  next  morning,  Bishop  Capers 
took  occasion,  without  mentioning  names  or  par- 
ticulars, to  say  to  the  Conference  that  Providential 
guidance  was  very  much  needed  in  a  case  which, 
the  night  before,  had  greatly  perplexed  his  advisers 
and  himself ;  and  that  having  entire  confidence  in 
the  efficacy  of  prayer  to  secure  the  light  and  aid 
from  God  which  were  wanted,  in  a  matter  that  con- 
cerned his  cause  and  kingdom  on  earth,  the  earnest 
and  special  prayers  of  the  Conference  were  asked, 
in  order  that  they  might  be  rightly  directed  in  the 
present  instance.  The  incident  illustrates  his  pre- 
vailing tone  of  thought  and  feeling,  in  the  discharge 
of  the  weighty  responsibilities  of  his  office. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  that  he  regarded 
the  Episcopate  in  the  Methodist  Church  as  a  func- 


602 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


tion  of  government  and  ministration,  an  order  jure 
ecclesiastico,  conferred  by  election  and  ordination, 
and  not  a  Divine-right  prerogative  of  a  falsely 
called  priesthood.  As  he  thoroughly  eliminated 
from  his  views  of  the  Christian  ministry  the  priestly 
element,  he  had  no  possible  use  for  the  priestly 
virtue,  supposed  to  be  mysteriously  conveyed  in  the 
so-called  Apostolical  Succession,  and  claimed  by 
the  Romanists  as  necessary  to  the  validity  of  minis- 
terial acts.  In  this  view  of  priestcraft,  which  is 
the  essence  of  Popery,  he  agreed  with  the  great 
body  of  Protestant  Christians. 

Bishop  Capers  was  a  man  of  strong  family  feel- 
ings. 'No  one  could  enjoy  home  more  than  he. 
But  for  the  last  fifteen  years  of  his  life,  we  have 
seen  how  perpetually  he  was  called  to  endure  long 
periods  of  separation  from  his  family.  We  have 
seen,  also,  how  paramount  was  the  principle  of  duty 
with  him.  When  the  time  to  set  off  for  an  appoint- 
ment came,  he  broke  away  resolutely  from  the 
charmed  circle,  holding  every  personal  feeling  in 
abeyance.  In  one  of  his  letters  from  Texas,  he 
says  to  Mrs.  Capers :  "  The  most  trying  time  of 
the  whole  period  of  a  long  absence  from  home,  is 
that  which  comes  when,  business  fully  done,  there 
is  nothing  remaining  but  to  return.  I  find  it  will 
not  answer  to  dwell  in  anticipation  at  all ;  but  the 
best  I  can  do  is  to  occupy  my  thoughts  with  the 
kindness  of  Providence  in  the  past,  and  so  school 
myself  down  to  patience  as  an  exercise  of  gratitude. 


PARENTAL  AFFECTION. 


503 


In  Missouri,  in  the  Indirln  Territory,  in  Arkansas,  I 
would  indulge,  and  often  did,  in  reveries  of  home, 
without  restlessness,  and  even  with  entire  com- 
posure ;  but  then,  there  was  much  time  to  pass, 
and  much  of  my  duty  to  be  performed,  before  I 
might  set  my  face  homeward;  and  the  communion 
of  home  stood  more  in  recollection  than  anticipa- 
tion. Time  before  me  held  out  a  Conference  or 
Conferences  to  attend,  weighty  responsibilities  to 
be  met,  holy  duties  to  be  performed,  before  home 
might  be  enjoyed;  and  these  I  would  never  pass 
or  skip ;  but  they  stood  ever  before  me,  thank 
God,  not  as  the  cherubim,  with  a  fiery  sword,  but 
rather  as  covenant  pledges  of  fidelity  to  my  Lord, 
which  I  should  love  to  redeem,  before  I  might 
think  of  coming  in  from  the  field,  and  sitting  down 
to  meat.  We  ar5  poor  creatures,  unprofitable 
servants,  after  all." 

Few  parents  are  to  be  found,  fonder  of  their 
children  than  he.  In  his  letters  when  absent  from 
home,  he  slIwsljs  sends  kisses  to  each  of  them. 
He  often  wrote  to  them.  The  following  are  speci- 
mens of  his  correspondence  with  them.  To  his 
youngest  daughter,  at  that  time  just  learning  to 
read,  he  sends  the  following  gem : 

"  My  very  dear  little  daughter  Mary  : — When 
Pa  thought  he  would  send  the  lines  in  a  letter  from 
Memphis  to  Emma,  his  next  thought  was,  what 
he  should  send  to  his  little  Mary ;  and  then  he  sat 
down  and  wrote  these : 


504 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


And  what  sliall  Mary  be, 

If  Emma  is  the  Rose  ? 
For  Mary — let  me  see — 

What  flower  of  flowers  grows  ? 

It  must  be  very  sweet, 

And  very  pretty  too  ; 
A  flower  right  hard  to  beat, 

I  hold  to  Mary  due. 

The  Rose  to  Emma's  given; 

To  Mary,  all  the  rest ; 
And  let  them  both  send  up  to  heaven 

A  perfume  ever  blessed. 

Be  a  dear,  sweet  child,  and  keep  Ma  pleased  all  the 
time  ti-ll  I  come  home  again.    Tell  brothers  Henry 
and  Ellison  to  be  good  boys,  and  never  forget  their 
prayers.    God  bless  you,  my  dear  little  daughter. 
"  Your  affectionate  father, 

"W.  Capers. 

"May  21,  1841." 

To  his  youngest  son,  Theodotus,  then  a  lad  just 
old  enough  to  be  sent  off  from  home  to  the  Cokes- 
bury  School,  he  writes,  August  7,  1853 : 

"  My  dear  son  : — When  we  parted,  on  your  first 
experiment  of  being  from  home  at  a  boarding-school, 
I  dare  say  we  both  felt  more  than  we  were  disposed 
to  have  known.  It  was  owing  to  sheer  absence 
(whatever  may  have  been  the  cause  of  that  absence) 
that  I  did  not  put  into  your  hand  a  little  money. 
I  send  you  your  first  purse,  to  be  disbursed  accord- 
ing to  your  own  discretion,  in  the  form  of  two  five- 
dollar  bills;  and  with  the  advice  that,  for  your 


CHILDREN    OP    BISHOP    CAPERS.  505 

own  satisfaction  iu  future,  more  than  my  own,  you 
will  keep  regular  memoranda  of  how  you  expend 
every  fourpence  of  it.  Begin  with  your  beginning 
in  this  way,  and  if  you  continue  the  same  practice 
through  life,  it  will  be  all  the  better  for  you.  May- 
God  bless  you,  my  dear  boy.  I  have  high  hope  of 
you ;  and  confident  of  your  self-respect  and  readi- 
ness to  improve  your  time  to  better  purpose  than 
youthful  fun  and  frolic.  I  shall  be  sadly  disap- 
pointed if  I  do  not  hear  the  best  account  of  you,  if 
it  shall  please  God  to  keep  me,  as  hitherto,  through 
the  journeys  of  the  residue  of  the  year.  jSTever  be 
cast  down.  Be  assured  that  a  worthy  and  valuable 
life  can  hardly  be  possible  without  no  little  of  the 
severities  of  trial  and  self-denial,  which  you,  like 
every  other  person,  must  feel  to  be  painful  in  the 
experience  of  them.  Use  your  time,  keep  your 
conscience  tender,  fear  God,  and  grow  to  be  an 
honor  and  a  blessing." 

In  a  preceding  page  the  death  of  the  Bishop's 
daughter,  Mrs.  Jones,  has  been  mentioned.  His 
daughter  Anna,  who  was  married  to  the  Eev.  Dr. 
Ellison,  a  gentleman  of  high  worth,  died  in  185T, 
in  the  joyful  hope  of  eternal  life.  Dr.  Capers's 
youngest  daughter,  Mary,  is  the  wife  of  Professor 
Stevens,  of  the  South  Carolina  Military  Academy. 
His  son  Henry  Dickson  is  a  practicing  physician 
At  Auburn,  Alabama,  with  fine  prospects  of  dis- 
tinction in  his  profession,  and  has  been  married  to 
ihe  daughter  of  Dr.  A.  Means,  of  Oxford,  Georgia. 
22 


506 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


His  next  son,  Ellison,  is  expected  to  enter  the  min- 
istry in  the  South  Carolina  Conference ;  and  the 
youngest  son,  Theodotus,  is  at  present  a  student 
matriculated  at  Wofford  College.  The  Bishop's 
domestic  relations  were  exceedingly  happy;  and 
while  his  children  revere  the  memory  of  such  a 
father,  they  bid  fair  to  be  an  honor  to  his  name. 

Trust  in  God  was  a  strong,  practical  principle 
with  Bishop  Capfers.  He  was  a  firm  believer  in  the 
Christian  doctrine  of  a  special  Providence.  He 
saw  distinctly  the  proper  medium  between  the 
enthusiastic  extreme,  on  the  one  hand,  of  expecting 
miraculous  interpositions,  and  the  rationalistic  ex- 
treme, on  the  other,  of  shutting  up  the  Divine 
agency  in  fixed  laws  and  an  uninterrupted,  neces- 
sitated order  in  the  sequences  of  nature.  He  saw 
how  the  Absolute,  the  great  Author  of  natural 
laws,  could,  without  disturbing  the  settled  order  of 
the  physical  world,  leave  himself,  in  the  multitude 
of  contingencies  at  his  disposal,  ample  room  for  the 
exercise  of  a  fatherly  care  over  those  who  put  their 
trust  in  him.  How  often  had  he  realized  the  fact 
that  fervent  prayer  brought  actual  spiritual  influ- 
ence upon  the  soul !  If  God,  as  free  Personality, 
absolved  from  any  chain  of  nature's  efiects  and 
causes,  could  come  thus  nigh  to  his  creatures  in  the 
manifestations  of  his  grace,  without  miracle,  and 
in  full  accordance  with  the  principles  and  laws  of 
his  august  administration,  why  should  it  be  doubted 
that  he  is  both  able  and  willing  to  make  all  out- 
ward things  tributary  to  our  real  well-being  ?  and 


SCHEME    OF    PROVIDENCE.  507 

that,  too,  without  suspending  or  interrupting  the 
course  of  nature.  A  thing  is  said  to  be  accidental; 
not  that  it  happened  without  an  adequate  cause, 
but  that  we  know  not  why  the  cause  of  its  hap- 
pening should  have  come  into  operation  just  then. 
But  the  Divine  agency  pervading  the  whole  life  of 
things,  can  and  does  arrange,  in  the  complications 
of  natural  phenomena,  these  accidental  things,  so 
that  they  touch  us  and  affect  us,  just  at  the  right 
time  and  in  the  right  way  to  answer  the  Divine 
purpose. 

John  Fletcher — a  name  illustrious  in  the  great 
Methodistic  movement — ^had  entered  the  military 
service  of  Portugal,  when  a  young  man,  and  was  on 
the  eve  of  embarking  for  Brazil,  when  a  servant 
accidentally  overturned  a  kettle  of  boiling  water  on 
his  leg.  He  w^as  left  behind  on  the  sick-list.  This 
trifling  so-called  accident  was  in  the  hand  of  a 
special  Providence  the  instrument  of  a  change  in 
his  whole  destiny.  After  his  recovery,  he  sought 
active  service  in  Holland ;  but  peace  was  declared, 
and  he  passed  into  England,  where  he  was  con- 
verted to  God,  and  became  one  of  the  leaders  in 
the  great  revival  of  the  eighteenth  century.  What 
thoughtful,  religious  man  can  review  the  events  of 
his  own  life  without  perceiving  and  noting  how 
often  the  most  important  movements  in  his  life- 
history  turned  on  the  centres  of  seemingly  small 
fortuitous  events  ?  The  disposing  of  these  fortuities 
he  will,  with  adoring  gratitude,  refer  to  the  special 
providence  of  his  Heavenly  Father,  whose  eyes  are 


508  LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 

"  over  the  righteous,  and  his  ears  open  unto  their 
prayers."  A  profound  philosophic  insight,  no  less 
than  an  humble  piety,  can  blend  in  the  harmony 
of  a  higher  unity  the  sequences  of  nature  and  the 
interpositions  of  a  particular  Providence.  And 
thus,  trust  in  God,  so  far  from  being  a  blind  im- 
pulse, rises  into  the  force  of  an  intelligent  and 
mighty  principle,  holding  us  firm  amid  life's  chances 
and  changes ;  giving  nurture  to  the  highest  forms 
of  virtue  and  piety ;  training  the  soul  to  the  exer- 
cise of  the  noblest  qualities  demanded  by  the  pur- 
pose of  life ;  and  bringing  unfailing  happiness  in 
the  train  of  Jbabitual  holiness. 

This  circle  of  thought  is  susceptible  of  a  wider 
expansion.  St.  Paul  has  a  remarkable  passage  in 
his  Epistle  to  the  Ephesians :  "To  the  intent  that 
now  unto  the  principalities  and  powers  in  heavenly 
places  might  be  known  by  the  Church  the  mani- 
fold wisdom  of  God."  The  scheme  of  Providence 
runs  through  the  whole  intention  of  the  institution 
of  the  Church,  and  through  the  whole  history  of 
her  varied  fortunes.  The  spectators  of  this  majes- 
tic, all-penetrating  movement,  are  not  merely  con- 
temporaneous nations,  during  the  march  of  the 
ages,  but  celestial  beings  of  highest  rank,  and,  it 
may  be,  diversified  points  of  abode,  in  the  universe. 
These  heavenly  intelligences  are  attracted  to  the 
earthly  theatre  of  the  developments  of  the  scheme 
of  redemption,  as  to  the  point  of  view  at  which 
"the  manifold  wisdom  of  God"  displays  its  most 
luminous  illustrations,  and  its  most  profound  adap- 


SCHEME    OF    PROVIDENCE.  509 

tations.  Wisdom,  and  not  mere  power,  is  the 
attribute  most  signally  disclosed — wisdom,  in  the 
nice  poise  maintained  between  the  effective  energy 
of  Divine  influence  and  the  self-active  spontaneity 
of  the  human  will — wisdom,  in  the  adjustment  of 
heavenly  grace  to  the  law  of  individual  responsi- 
bility— wisdom,  in  the  provision  of  a  sufficient 
remedy  for  moral  evil  in  the  sacrifice  of  the  Divine 
Son,  and  the  condition  upon  which  alone  this 
remedy  is  efficaciously  applied,  faith  in  his  blood ; 
wisdom,  in  fine,  manifold  wisdom,  in  superintend- 
ing the  movements  of  this  profoundly  balanced 
scheme,  in  the  world ;  working  into  the  Divine 
plan,  and  making  tributary  to  its  ultimate  success, 
all  national  vicissitude,  all  human  culture,  all  con- 
flicts of  thought;  using  subordinate  agencies,  and 
making  even  the  wrath  of  man  to  praise  God.  The 
progress  of  Christianity  seems  to  be  subjected  to 
the  common  conditions  of  human  things :  errors, 
defections,  strifes,  are  not  shut  out  by  Divine 
power;  millions  of  the  human  race  are  yet  un- 
evangelized ;  ages  of  persecution,  ages  of  darkness, 
ages  of  conflict — these  are  the  epitome  of  Christian 
story.  And  yet  the  heavenly  watchers  have  been 
contemplating  in  every  one  of  the  evolutions  of  this 
sublime  cause,  in  its  ebb  no  less  than  in  the  swell 
of  its  mighty  flood,  the  manifold  wisdom  of  God. 
In  their  magnificent  sweep  of  vision  they  have  seen 
this  attribute  manifested  in  instances  innumerable, 
in  forms  as  illustrious  as  diversified ;  and  they  anti- 
cipate with  serene  confidence  the  final  issue.  How 
17 


510 


LIFE    OF    WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


honored  is  tliat  man  who  is  permitted,  under  such 
inspection,  to  bring  the  activities  of  a  large  intel- 
lect and  firm  will  and  brave  heart,  assisted  by  the 
Divine  grace,  to  the  service  of  such  a  cause ! 
Surely  the  sleepless  eye  of  a  special  Providence 
must  follow  the  steps  of  such  a  man. 

The  disinterestedness  of  Bishop  Capers,  in  a 
public  life  crowded  with  active  labors,  and  reaching 
through  near  a  half  century,  is  worthy  of  note. 
There  are  Bishops  whose  annual  income  is  fifty 
thousand  dollars.  There  have  been  Bishops  who 
amassed  splendid  fortunes  from  the  emoluments  of 
their  office :  one  leaving  a  half  million  of  dollars 
to  his  family  at  his  death ;  another  a  million  and  a 
half — "non-preaching  prelates,"  many  of  them,  in 
addition.  Bishop  Capers,  it  need  not  be  said, 
belonged  not  to  this  class  of  Church  dignitaries. 
All  he  ever  received  from  the  Church  he  served  so 
long  and  faithfully,  was  a  bare  subsistence ;  eked 
out,  withal,  by  the  sale  of  his  patrimonial  property. 
Once  or  twice  his  personal  friends  relieved  him 
from  the  embarrassment  of  pressing  debts ;  a  life- 
estate  was  given  him  and  Mrs.  Capers  in  a  residence 
in  Charleston,  partly  by  a  donation  fi-om  the  South 
Carolina  Conference,  and  partly  by  contributions 
from  his  friends ;  and  occasionally  some  kind- 
hearted  "sister  Paul"  would,  in  spite  of  his  deli- 
cacy, make  him  a  present  of  a  coat.  But  the  care 
of  a  large  family;  the  expenses  of  living,  and  of 
perpetual  removals ;  the  hospitalities  which  his 
Dreeding,  natural  temper,  and  circumstances  ne- 


PECUNIARY   EMBARRASSMENTS.  511 

cossitatecl,  involved  an  outlay  of  money  which  kept 
him  worried  with  petty  pecuniary  obligations. 
He  carried  often  a  burden  of  spirit  which  it 
demanded  the  firmest  religious  principle  to  sustain 
with  equanimity.  ^'  One  thing  only  might  I  desire," 
he  said  in  a  communication  to  his  brethren  of  the 
South  Carolina  Conference  in  1849,  ''if  it  were 
God's  will,  concerning  all  the  cares,  business,  and 
bustle  of  life ;.  and  that  is,  to  wipe  my  hands  clean 
of  it  all  now  and  for  ever.  But  this  might  not  be. 
I  have  a  wife  and  children,  and  may  not  be  in- 
different to  temporal  things.  But  my  concern 
about  such  tl:^ings  ever  has  been,  and  ever  shall  be, 
limited  strictly  and  entirely  by  the  wants  of  life  in 
those  dependent  on  me.  For  myself,  I  have  no 
wants,  and  know  no  care."  In  the  last  interview 
but  one  which  the  writer  of  the  present  memoir 
had  with  him,  Bishop  Capers  invited  him  to  step 
into  an  adjoining  room,  and,  with  a  countenance 
beaming  with  satisfaction,  said  :  "  I  have  a  bit  of 
intelligence  for  your  private  ear,  which  I  know  will 
please  you:  I  am  about  free  from  pecuniary  em- 
barrassment at  last."  He  then  gave  a  brief  detail 
of  the  position  of  his  affairs,  in  a  tone  tremulous 
with  the  excitement  of  gratitude  to  God  for  his 
deliverance  from  annoyances  of  that  class.  And 
yet,  this  was  a  man  whom  popularity  had  followed 
for  more  than  forty  years  ;  whose  talents,  address, 
and  tried  character,  if  directed  to  any  of  the  walks 
of  secular  professional  life,  would  have  insured 
him  ample  property ;  to  whom  tempting  offers  had 


512  LIFE   OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


actually  been  made  to  induce  a  change  in  his 
denominational  relations.  His  disinterested  at- 
tachment to  the  itinerant  Methodist  ministry  was 
proof  against  all  assaults  from  without,  all  fears 
from  within.  It  stirs  the  sentiment  of  the  moral 
sublime  to  see  a  man  of  eminent  abilities,  world- 
wide reputation,  and  charming  social  qualities,  con- 
secrated by  the  grace  of  God  to  one  work  in  life — 
that  of  doing  good  to  his  fellows  ;  adhering  to  that 
work  with  a  constancy  which  no  toil  can  weary,  no 
discouragements  appall,  no  illusions  beguile,  no 
temptations  allure  ;  who,  with  serene  purpose,  with 
"the  prophetic  eye  of  faith  and  the^earless  heart 
of  love,"  unbought  by  gain,  loyal  to  the  last,  pur- 
sues the  loftiest  aim  of  life,  the  glory  of  God  and 
usefulness  to  his  fellows — secures  the  greatest  good, 
the  favor  of  God  for  ever. 

In  contemplating  the  results  of  such  a  life  as 
that  of  William  Capers,  we  must  not  overlook  the 
important  and  vast  benefits  to  society,  in  an  ethical 
point  of  view,  which  of  necessity  flow  from  it. 
The  Christian  preacher  is  an  embassador  for  Christ. 
He  proclaims  the  word  of  God,  the  gospel  of  salva- 
tion. He  is  no  mere  lecturer  on  theology,  soci- 
ology, or  any  other  science.  His  words  are  clothed 
with  the  authority  of  his  otfice ;  and  he  testifies  to 
all  men,  "  repentance  toward  God,  and  faith  toward 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  He  reasons  of  "righteous- 
ness, temperance,  and  a  judgment  to  come."  But 
then,  just  so  far  as  he  is  successful  in  turning  men 
from  sin  to  holiness,  to  that  extent  he  is  making 


VALUE  OF  MINISTERIAL  FUNCTION.  513 

good  citizens.  The  law  of  the  Spirit  of  life  in 
Christ  Jesus,  set  up  in  the  soul,  brings  with  it  the 
law  of  moral  restraint,  curbs  selfishness,  expels 
dishonesty,  enthrones  conscience  as  a  ruling  power, 
gives  root  and  sap  to  virtue,  invests  the  marriage 
relation  with  sanctity ;  and  into  the  family,  which 
in  many  vital  respects  is  the  foundation  of  the 
State,  introduces  the  nurture  and  discipline  that 
best  prepares  for  the  grave  duties  of  life.  The 
whole  authority  of  this  office  of  preaching  is  en- 
forced by  the  retributions  of  the  world  to  come. 
IN'ow,  it  is  undeniable  that  the  best  guaranty  for 
public  freedom  is  found  in  the  spread  of  a  social 
virtue  based  on  such  principles.  The  strongest 
antagonist  to  public  corruption  is  the  manly  valor 
in  the  bosom  of  the  private  citizen,  which  resists 
and  treads  down,  by  the  aid  of  God's  grace  in 
Christ,  the  corruption  in  the  heart:  the  selfish 
pride,  ambition,  and  licentiousness  which,  un- 
checked, would  flow  out  in  conflict  with  the  rights 
of  others,  and  put  in  peril  every  thing  precious  in 
a  well-ordered  state  of  society.  It  is  beyond  the 
reach  of  human  calculation,  of  course,  to  estimate 
the  full  value  to  society,  to  republican  institutions, 
of  the  direct  and  indirect  influence  of  the  minis- 
terial function,  kept  true  to  its  lofty  and  spiritual 
ends.  But  it  is  abundantly  obvious,  that  a  faithful 
minister  of  Christ,  who  directs  his  labors  to  the 
great  ends  of  his  heavenly  commission,  becomes 
one  of  the  best  benefactors  to  his  country.  Every 
such  preacher,  as  it  has  been  well  said,  does  more 
22=^ 


514 


LIFE    OF  WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


to  guard  the  iDterests  of  social  life  than  five  magis* 
trates,  armed  with  penal  statutes,  and  more  than 
five  hundred  visionary  philosophers,  with  the  best 
theories  of  the  perfectibility  of  man.  Dr.  Capers 
^  held  himself  fixedly  aloof  from  all  parties  and 
politics ;  never  attended  public  dinners,  or  made 
after-dinner  speeches;  did  not  even  so  much  as 
vote  at  public  elections — not  to  talk  of  desecrating 
the  pulpit  to  the  vile  ends  of  political  demagogue- 
ism.  Xear  the  close  of  the  General  Conference  of 
1844,  when  the  eyes  of  the  whole  country  were 
fixed  upon  the  proceedings  in  the  case  of  Bishop 
Andrew,  Mr.  Calhoun  addressed  a  note  to  Dr.  Ca- 
pers, inviting  him  to  stop  at  Washington  City  on 
his  way  home,  and  favor  him  with  a  personal  inter- 
view in  respect  to  the  probable  course  of  the 
Southern  Conferences.  Dr.  Capers  thought  it  best 
to  decline  the  invitation,  lest  it  should  be  said,  as 
indeed  it  was  afterward  shamelessly  and  repeatedly 
said  in  the  Xorthern  and  Xorth-western  papers  of 
the  Church,  that  the  politicians  and  preachers  were 
in  council.  To  Csesar  let  the  things  of  Csesar 
belong,  was  his  maxim.  Yet,  in  his  own  sphere 
and  proper  vocation,  how  nobly  he  served  his 
country  the  foregoing  considerations  will  show. 
From  this  point  of  view,  his  life  would  be  the 
record  of  a  potent  instrumentality  in  the  moral 
triumjphs  and  social  progress  of  his  time  and  nation. 
With  all  the  emphasis  of  truth  was  it  said  over 
his  coffined  remains,  that  he  "  served  his  generation. ' ' 
The  direct  spiritual  good  accomplished  by  the 


LITERARY  REMAINS. 


515 


ministry  of  siicli  a  man,  can  be  fully  known  only 
at  the  revelation  of  the  great  day.  If  the  award 
of  that  day  shall, be,  "Well  done,  good  and  faithful 
servant,"  it  will  be  enough.  It  were  a  success  for 
the  faithful  minister  of  Christ,  beyond  all  the  lau- 
relled prizes  of  earth,  to  save  his  own  soul.  But 
success  in  his  ministry  did  largely  crown  the  labors 
of  Bishop  Capers.  Many  were  the  seals  God  gave 
to  his  honored  servant ;  much  the  fruit  which  fol- 
lowed his  exertions.  The  persons  brought  under 
serious  concern — brought  to  repentance  and  faith 
in  Christ — under  a  single  address  of  his,  were 
numbered  by  scores.  The  whole  course  of  his  min- 
istry tended  to  the  edification  of  the  Church.  And 
in  the  midst  of  this  Church  he  stood  as  a  shining 
pillar,  covered  with  trophies  of  victory. 

He  has  left  behind  him  no  literary  monument, 
save  the  Autobiography  prefixed  to  this  memoir, 
the  Catechisms  for  the  negro  missions,  and  Short 
Sermons  an-d  True  Tales  for  children,  written  for 
the  Sunday  School  Visitor,  and  since  his  death 
published  in  a  neat  little  volume,  by  Dr.  Summers. 
He  was  formed,  in  the  vigorous  school  of  active 
life,  and  the  incessant  travel  and  constant  preaching 
of  his  earlier  years  left  him  no  time  for  the  severer 
studies  which  are  necessary  to  successful  author- 
ship in  the  fields  of  theology,  metaphysics,  or  moral 
science.  This  early  contact  with  the  practical  re- 
alities of  life,  while  it  fostered  the  energy  by  which 
he  forced  his  way  to  eminence  and  usefulness,  was 
unpropitious  to  scholarly  habits.     He  had  the 


516 


LIFE    OF   WILLIAM  CAPERS. 


elements  of  a  great  preacher  in  him.  Preachir  g 
was  to  be  his  work  for  life.  It  was  to  him,  it  is 
to  any  man,  the  noblest  of  all  possible  vocations. 
In  the  sphere  of  great  labors  which  he  filled  in 
the  Methodist  Church,  from  his  twentieth  to  his 
thirty-fifth  year,  the  special  need  was  for  men  of 
ready,  keen,  vigorous  action,  of  eloquent,  influen- 
tial sjyeech.  That  he  should  be  a  cloistered  student, 
and  at  the  same  time  a  man  of  the  people,  a  man 
of  action,  an  orator,  and  a  leader  in  aftairs,  was 
not  to  be  looked  for.  However  rapid  in  his  mental 
combinations,  and  original  and  vigorous  in  his 
grasp  of  thought,  there  are  other  qualifications  for 
authorship  which  he  well  knew  his  circumstances 
had  not  allowed  him  to  develop.  ISTor  did  any 
ambition  of  the  sort  trouble  him.  His  proper 
sphere  of  service  he  filled  wisely,  judiciously,  suc- 
cessfully. He  was  one  of  the  master-spirits  of  the 
second  generation  of  Southern  Methodists ;  a 
worthy  successor  of  Asbury,  Hull,  Humphries, 
and  Daugherty;  intrepid,  whole-hearted,  well- 
poised,  strong  in  influence  that  had  been  nobly 
won  by  great  labors  ;  a  doer  of  things  worthy  to  be 
written  ;  inheriting  a  dignity  unapproached  by  him 
who  has  merely  written  things  worthy  to  be  read. 
Having  applied  the  activities  of  life  to  the  loftiest 
uses,  he  has  passed  into  the  City  of  God,  where,  in 
the  domain  of  spirits  for  ever  blessed  and  glorified, 
those  activities  will  ever  move  on, 

"  Vv^hile  life,  and  thought,  and  being  last, 
Or  immortality  endures." 


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OF  THE 

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tlio  Church  pronounces  it  just  the  thing  that  was  in  demand.  It  should  everywhere 
accompany  the  Hymn  Book. 

TRACTS. 


WESLEY'S  SERMONS.  In  four  packages.  $1  40 
METHODIST  PAMPHLETS  FOE  THE  PEOPLE: 

Package  1.    12  Tracts.    Ecclesiastical  Series.  0  25 

do.     2.    12  Tracts.    Doctrinal  Series.  0  25 

do.     3.    24  Tracts.    Anti-Romanist  Series.  0  25 

do.     4.    12  Tracts.    Temperance  Series.  0  15 

do.     5.      8  Tracts.    Baptism  Series.  0  15 

MISCELLANEOUS  TRACTS : 

Package  1.    40  Tracts.  0  30 

do.     2.    40  Tracts.  0  30 

do.     3.    40  Tracts.  0  30 

do.     4.    14  Tracts.  0  15 

do.     5,    12  Tracts.  0  15 

do.     6.    15  Tracts.  0  15 

do.     7.    30  Tracts.  0  20 

METHODIST  PAMPHLETS  FOR    THE  PEOPLE.  Four 
volumes,  bound. 

Series  1.    Ecclesiastical  Series.  0  60 

do.    2.    Doctrinal  Series.  0  60 

do.    3.    Anti-Romanist  Series.  0  60 

do.    4.    On  Temperance  and  Baptism.  0  60 

MISCELLANEOUS  TRACTS.    Three  volumes,  bound. 

Series  1.    Tracts  1  to  67.  0  60 

do.    2.    Tracts  68  to  131.  0  60 

do.    3.    Tracts  132  to  192.  0  60 

8ERM0NS  AND  ESSAYS.    By  Ministers  of  the  M.  E.  Church, 

South.     One  volume,  uniform  with  the  bound  volumes  of 

Tracts  0  60 


DATE  DUE 




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